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LIBRARY 

tJNTVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


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Gloria  Victis 


They  say,  lest  men  are  moulded  out  of  faults. 

MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 


Gloria  Victis 


By 

J.  A.  Mitchell 

Editor  of  Life,  author  of  "  Amos  Judd" 
"  That  First  Affair,"  etc. 


New  York 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
1897 


LIBRARY 
TTMTVRRSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Copyright,  1897, 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON    CAMBRIDGE,  U.  S.  A. 


Gloria  Victis 


i 

Staten    Island,   in   the  garden   before 
a   modest   cottage,  a  plump,   sunburnt 
little  girl  was  sitting  among  the  flowers. 

Her  companion,  a  doll  of  uncertain  char 
acter,  whose  champagne  tresses  and  gaudy 
attire  betokened  a  career  of  Gallic  levity, 
or,  at  the  very  best,  a  purely  fashionable 
existence,  appeared  strikingly  out  of  har 
mony  with  her  humble  surroundings.  This 
pretentious  effigy,  face  down  across  her 
guardian's  lap,  was  about  to  receive  the  pun 
ishment  we  associate  with  that  attitude,  when 
a  voice  from  the  road  caused  the  uplifted 
hand  to  pause  in  its  descent.  A  horse  and 
buggy  had  stopped  before  the  gate,  and  the 
driver  repeated  his  question. 

"  Does  Mrs.  Zabarelli  live  here  ?  " 
"  Yes,  sir,  but  she  's  not  at  home." 


Gloria  Victis 

ct  You  expect  her  soon,  don't  you  ?  " 
u  Yes,  sir,  I  guess  so.  At  one  o'clock." 
The  man  climbed  down  from  the  vehicle, 
hitched  his  horse,  and  entered  the  yard.  He 
wore  a  long  linen  duster  buttoned  from  his 
throat  to  his  ankles,  leaving  nothing  of  the 
other  raiment  visible  except  a  white  collar, 
the  tips  of  his  trousers,  a  straw  hat,  and  a  pair 
of  russet  shoes.  His  hair  was  gray,  almost 
white,  hanging  thick  about  his  ears;  and  he 
was  very  round-shouldered.  Judging  from 
appearances  he  might  have  been  either  forty- 
five  or  sixty  years  of  age,  his  hair  and  figure 
seeming  more  venerable  than  his  face.  He 
was  clean  shaven,  with  thin  lips,  a  rather 
sharp  nose,  and  a  strong  jaw.  Altogether  he 
gave  the  impression  of  a  conservative,  inde 
finable  citizen,  who  could  have  passed  for 
anything  from  a  book  agent  to  the  president 
of  a  trust  company. 

The  child  had  struggled  to  her  feet,  and, 
as  she  stood  regarding  him,  he  stopped  in 
front  of  her,  looked  down,  and  smiled.  She 
returned  the  smile,  and  came  a  little  nearer. 
She  found,  as  many  others  had  found,  a  fas 
cination  in  this  person's  eyes.  They  were 
2 


Gloria  Victis 

gray,  and  not  remarkable  except  from  their 
excessive  honesty.  Under  all  conditions 
they  appeared  sincere  and  frank;  but  when 
the  owner  smiled,  the  soul  behind  seemed  to 
shine  through  and  out,  convincing  you,  in  a 
way  you  had  never  realized  before,  that 
honesty  —  transparent,  immaculate,  incor 
ruptible  honesty  —  was,  after  all,  the  highest 
human  attribute.  As  these  translucent  orbs 
beamed  kindly  upon  the  child,  her  young 
heart,  under  their  supernal  influence,  ex 
panded  with  a  trustful  love. 

"  Are  n't  you  afraid  of  the  sun,  out  here 
with  no  hat  on  ?  " 

«  No,  sir  ;  I  like  it." 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  held  it  a  mo 
ment,  absorbed  in  a  calculation. 

"  Did  your  mother  say  she  would  be  back 
by  one  o'clock  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

He  appeared  undecided,  looking  first  to 
ward  the  open  door  of  the  cottage,  then  over 
the  opposite  fields  to  the  harbor  beyond, 
where  floated  the  craft  of  every  nation.  The 
day  was  warm,  but  a  gentle  breeze  from  the 
water  somewhat  tempered  the  heat;  not 
3 


Gloria  Victis 

enough,  however,  to  cool  the  rays  of  a  blind 
ing  sun  now  directly  overhead.  The  air 
near  the  earth  quivered  beneath  the  scorching 
light,  and  in  this  neglected  garden  stray  bees 
and  humming-birds,  drunk  with  heat  .and 
honey,  reeled  blindly  to  and  fro. 

The  visitor's  glance,  drawn  by  the  brilliant 
colors,  rested  for  a  moment  upon  the  preten 
tious  doll,  now  pressed  with  loving  care 
against  its  owner's  stomach.  Then,  as  if  to 
aid  his  reflections,  he  opened  his  mouth  a 
very  little,  drew  in  his  lips,  and  slowly  rubbed 
his  chin.  Perhaps  the  temperature  of  the 
garden  hastened  a  decision,  or  it  may  have 
been  the  nature  of  his  errand,  for,  with 
another  smile  to  his  young  admirer,  he  turned 
and  walked  into  the  house. 

Although  a  diminutive  and  somewhat  un 
inviting  room,  the  Zabarelli  parlor  at  the 
present  moment  proved  a  welcome  refuge. 
The  air  fluttered  gently  through  the  closed 
blinds,  and  the  subdued  light,  after  the  outer 
glare,  was  soothing  to  the  senses.  This 
room  bore  indications  of  modest  comfort; 
but  the  extreme  simplicity  of  its  furniture 
strengthened  the  impression  already  given  by 
4 


Gloria  Victis 

the  exterior  of  the  cottage  that  Poverty  and 
the  Zabarellis  were  close  companions. 

When  the  stranger  entered  this  parlor,  he 
seated  himself  upon  a  sofa  at  the  further  cor 
ner,  facing  the  door.  The  little  girl,  who  had 
followed  close  behind  him,  climbed  into  a 
rocking-chair  and  began  to  rock,  arranging,  as 
she  did  so,  the  skirts  and  head-gear  of  the 
frivolous  foreigner,  all  accompanied  by  co 
quettish  glances  toward  the  visitor.  But  he 
seemed  absorbed  in  his  own  reflections. 

A  long  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  voices 
of  birds  from  the  neighboring  trees,  and  by 
the  occasional  whistle  of  a  distant  steamer, 
hoarse  and  iron-throated,  mingling  with  the 
shrieks  of  officious  tugs  as  they  darted  hither 
and  thither  on  their  breathless,  never  ending 
business.  At  last  he  turned  toward  her,  and 
again  smiled  pleasantly,  —  an  easy  thing  to  do 
as  she  was  an  attractive  little  person,  whose 
laughing  eyes  and  plump  cheeks  seemed  to 
have  brought  some  of  the  outer  sunshine  into 
the  sober  parlor.  Besides,  he  was  fond  of 
children,  and  was  himself  a  father. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Filippa  Whitehouse  Zabarelli." 
5 


Gloria  Victis 

"Whitehouse?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Whitehouse  is  not  Italian." 

"  Of  course  it  is  n't !  "  and  she  smiled  as 
if  amused  at  his  ignorance.  "  Whitehouse  is 
American.  I  am  named  Whitehouse  after 
my  grandmamma." 

"  Oh,  I  see  !  After  your  mother's  mother?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  your  mother  is  not  Italian  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !    She  is  from  Massachusetts." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  understand." 

And  he  wondered  if  Mrs.  Zabarelli's  na 
tionality  would  render  his  errand  more  diffi 
cult.  He  feared  it  might.  From  his  own 
experience  he  was  well  aware  of  wide  mental 
variations  between  the  New  England  woman 
of  Puritan  descent  and  the  Latin  immigrant. 

"  Is  that  your  father  ?  "  he  asked,  pointing 
to  a  large  photograph  that  hung  above  the 
mantel. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

If  this  portrait  was  correct,  Signor  Udolfo 

Zabarelli  was  a  good-looking  man  who  had 

carried    his    nationality   upon    his   face   with 

superfluous  emphasis.     Short,  black,  stiff  hair 

6 


Gloria  Victis 

in  aggressive  abundance  shot  up  from  a  low 
forehead,  and  was  trimmed  like  the  bristles  of 
a  brush  —  or  a  hawthorn  hedge  —  in  such 
a  way  that  the  top  of  his  head  could  assume 
any  shape  desired  by  his  barber.  Alert  eye 
brows  darting  away  from  his  nose  at  an  up 
ward  angle  gave  a  wide-awake  expression 
to  a  firm  but  amiable  countenance.  There 
were  indications  of  personal  vanity  of  which 
he  obviously  was  not  ashamed,  and  which  he 
took  no  pains  to  conceal.  A  diminutive,  up 
turned  mustache  and  a  little  black  tuft  beneath 
the  lower  lip  completed  the  Italian  effect. 

The  face  seemed  familiar  to  the  visitor. 
He  was  trying  to  remember  where  he  had 
seen  it,  when  the  little  girl,  who  had  stopped 
rocking  and  was  also  regarding  the  portrait, 
said  in  a  lower  voice,  — 

"  He  only  died  a  little  while  ago." 
Then,  after  a  pause,  "  My  papa  was  very 
famous.     He  was  a  great  artist.     Did   you 
ever  see  him  ?  " 

The  visitor  shook  his  head. 
"  It  was  lovely  to  see  him  dance." 
Dance  ?    Then  he  remembered.    Yes,  in 
deed,  he  had  seen  him  dance ;   and  then  to 
7 


Gloria  Victis 

the  daughter  he  described  the  father  as  he  ap 
peared  upon  the  stage,  —  how  graceful  he  was, 
and  how  light  upon  his  feet !  His  own  head 
used  to  swim  to  see  Zabarelli  spin  like  a  top 
for  an  indefinite  period,  on  the  very  tips  of 
his  toes,  then  stop  with  a  jerk.  And  as  he 
stopped,  facing  the  audience,  he  would  bring 
his  fingers  to  his  lips  with  a  triumphant  smile, 
and  throw  kisses  to  the  right  and  to  the  left. 

His  listener,  as  he  spoke,  slid  down  from 
her  rocking-chair  and  came  over  and  stood 
between  his  knees,  a  brown  hand  stroking 
the  linen  duster ;  and  there  was  a  happy 
pride  in  the  moist,  upturned  eyes  as  she 
listened  to  these  praises. 

"Yes,"  she  said  in  a  subdued  voice,  with 
a  touch  of  awe;  "and  mamma  says  there 
were  ladies  too,  who  danced  about  him,  just 
like  fairies." 

"Yes,  just  like  fairies  ;"  and  then  he  went 
on  and  told  of  her  father's  agility  and  of  his 
wonderful  effects,  —  of  his  flying  about  the 
stage,  hither  and  thither,  with  tremendous 
bounds,  a  lady  of  the  ballet  on  either  side. 
And  these  ladies,  when  he  seized  them  by 
their  waists,  would  spring  high  into  the  air, 


Gloria  Victis 

and  then,  as  he  held  them  at  arm's  length 
above  his  head,  all  a-quiver,  like  ethereal 
spirits,  with  their  fluffy  skirts  and  legs  of 
dazzling  pink,  they  would  smile  and  wave 
their  gleaming  arms,  slowly  revolving  like 
gorgeous  lilies  upon  a  sea  of  music. 

Filippa,  with  wide-open  eyes  and  parted  lips, 
was  listening  enraptured,  and  expected  more. 

"  But  it  is  three  or  four  years  since  I  have 
seen  him.  Wasn't  he  ballet-master  at  the 
opera,  later  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  Maestro  di  Ballo.  Do  you  know 
my  uncle  Guglielmo  ?  " 

"  Goolyelmo  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  "  and  she  continued  as  if  repeating 
a  difficult  lesson,  "  Guglielmo  Onofredo 
Travaggini  Biffi  Titinnio  Zabarelli." 

"  Is  that  all  one  uncle  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  he  is  a  dancer  like  papa.  And 
what  do  you  think  he  says  ?  " 

"  I  could  n't  guess." 

u  He  says  I  may  be  a  lady  of  the  ballet, 
too,  if  I  am  good  and  graceful." 

The  visitor  could  not  restrain  a  smile  as 
he  glanced  down  at  the  fat  little  figure,  with 
its  voluminous  waist  and  manifold  rotundi- 


Gloria  Victis 

ties.  And  in  the  wide,  cheerful  face  he  de 
tected  a  faint  resemblance  to  the  portrait  on 
the  wall. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  be  good  and 
graceful,  and  you  will  become  taller  and 
thinner  as  you  get  older,  which  will  make  it 
easier  for  you  to  dance." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  shall  be  a  beautiful  lady : 
like  her !  "  and  she  held  aloft  the  doll,  who 
appeared,  upon  a  closer  acquaintance,  even 
more  disreputable  than  before. 

"  No,  I  hope  not !  "  he  exclaimed,  regard 
ing  the  showy  personage,  who,  as  their  eyes 
met,  startled  him  by  a  prolonged  and  brazen 
wink.  This  creature's  eyes,  originally  de 
signed  to  close  when  in  a  recumbent  position, 
had  become  impaired  by  careless  usage  or 
by  dissipation,  and  now  moved  independ 
ently  of  one  another,  each  by  its  own 
mechanism,  in  a  manner  that  could  not  fail 
to  aggravate  any  unfavorable  impressions 
already  given. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  and  the  child  looked  up  at 
him  with  disapproval.     "  Her  hair  is  real,  and 
her  dress  is  silk ;  just  feel  of  it  !     And  look 
at  her  shoes  !     She  —  " 
10 


Gloria  Victis 

As  Filippa  spoke,  a  door  opened  in  the  ad 
joining  room,  toward  the  rear  of  the  house,  and 
the  visitor,  as  if  startled,  pushed  her  roughly 
to  one  side  and  rose  to  his  feet.  She  looked 
up  at  him  in  surprise.  He  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  her  presence,  and  was  evidently  dis 
turbed.  With  three  strides  he  crossed  the 
little  room,  and  seated  himself  upon  a  chair 
near  the  open  door  by  which  he  had  entered. 

A  woman's  voice  called,  — 

"  Filippa  ! " 

Filippa  answered;  but  before  she  reached 
the  door  Madame  Zabarelli  entered. 

The  visitor  found  himself  in  the  presence  of 
a  slight  and  rather  pretty  woman  about  thirty 
years  of  age.  She  was  clad  in  the  deepest 
mourning,  and  with  her  grave  dark  eyes,  sen 
sitive  mouth,  and  rather  prominent  temples, 
gave  the  impression  of  an  exceedingly  ear 
nest  person ;  of  one  already  familiar  with  the 
darker  side  of  life,  who  took  all  things  seri 
ously,  and  had  tasted  the  bitter  with  the  sweet. 

Finding  a  stranger  in  her  little  parlor,  she 

stopped  short  in  surprise ;  but  after  returning 

his  ceremonious  bow  and  the  more  effusive 

greeting  of  Filippa,  she  motioned  him  to  be 

ii 


Gloria  Victis 

seated  and  awaited  his  errand.  With  her 
daughter  standing  by  her  side,  she  sat  upon 
the  sofa  he  had  just  quitted,  watching  him 
with  expectant  interest.  For  a  moment  he 
hesitated,  as  if  searching  for  suitable  lan 
guage.  But  his  hesitation  was  brief.  When 
he  spoke  he  smiled  with  fatherly  benevolence 
upon  his  listener,  who  felt,  as  she  looked  into 
his  truthful  eyes,  that  she  was  in  the  presence 
of  one  upon  whose  integrity,  at  least,  she 
could  implicitly  rely. 

"  I  have  come  on  a  somewhat  unusual 
errand,  Madame  Zabarelli,  but  it  is  one  that 
need  cause  you  no  alarm.  We  merely  de 
sire,  at  the  bank,  to  correct  an  oversight 
before  it  can  cause  you  annoyance." 

Her  face  at  once  became  anxious ;  but 
he  raised  a  hand  as  if  to  allay  any  possible 
uneasiness. 

"  Excuse  my  not  introducing  myself  at  the 
outset.  My  name  is  Elijah  Folsom  ;  I  am  one 
of  the  directors  of  our  bank,  as  you  very  likely 
know." 

She  was  not  familiar  with  the  names  of  the 
directors,  which  ignorance   she   indicated  by 
an  apologetic  movement  of  the  head. 
12 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Some  skilful  rascal,"  he  went  on,  "  has 
palmed  off  upon  our  receiving  teller  over  two 
thousand  dollars  in  counterfeit  one  hundred 
dollar  bills,  and  after  making  an  examination, 
about  an  hour  ago,  we  fear  some  of  them  are 
among  the  notes  in  your  possession." 

At  this  she  arose  in  real  alarm  and  began 
to  unbutton  her  jacket.  In  doing  this  she 
loosened,  unintentionally,  a  small  gold  chain 
to  which  a  locket  was  attached. 

u  Look  out,  mamma ! "  cried  Filippa. 
"  You  are  dropping  your  watch  !  " 

Thereupon  Madame  Zabarelli  took  from 
her  pocket  a  heavy  gold  watch,  of  a  foreign 
pattern,  and  laid  it  upon  a  little  table  by  her 
side. 

u  But  do  not  worry,  madam,"  he  protested. 
"  If  the  bills  are  counterfeit,  we  shall  make 
them  good  to  you,  no  matter  how  many." 

But  Madame  Zabarelli  was  not  to  be  com 
posed  so  easily.  The  mere  thought  of  coun 
terfeit  money  was,  in  her  mind,  so  closely 
associated  with  crime  and  disaster  that  her 
fingers  hastily  continued  their  work,  until, 
from  the  inner  recesses  of  her  waist,  a  roll  of 
bills  was  extracted.  These  she  unfolded  in 
13 


Gloria  Victis 

an  agitated  manner  and  placed  in  his  hand. 
He  arose,  and,  standing  near  the  doorway  with 
his  back  to  the  light,  examined  each  note 
carefully,  yet  with  a  certain  rapidity.  As  he 
came  to  the  twelfth  and  last,  he  said,  with  a 
smile,  and  a  gentle  shake  of  his  head,  — 

"It  is  wonderful  how  clever  the  rascals 
are.  Every  one  of  these  bills  is  a  forgery." 

Madame  Zabarelli's  face  expressed  the 
most  intense  anxiety.  But  the  eyes  that  met 
her  own  were  so  calmly  reassuring,  so  brim 
ming  with  paternal  support,  encouragement, 
and  truth,  that  for  a  short  moment  she  felt 
a  happy  relief.  Being  a  woman,  however, 
who  gave  thought  to  all  things  with  tragic 
seriousness,  and  knowing  this  money  was  the 
last  remnant  of  her  husband's  savings,  the 
only  barrier  between  herself  and  absolute 
poverty,  her  fears  quickly  returned. 

"  Shall  I  take  them  at  once  to  the  bank  ?  " 
she  inquired. 

"  Oh,  no !  "  and  placing  them  as  he  spoke 
in  an  inner  pocket,  he  continued :  "  There  is 
no  necessity  for  that.  I  am  going  there  now 
myself,  and  to-morrow  when  you  call  we  will 
have  the  good  money  ready  for  you.  Or,  if 
P4 


Gloria  Victis 

you  prefer,  we  will  send  it  here  the  first  thing 
to-morrow  morning,  or  even  this  afternoon." 

"  But,  sir,  I  could  not  sleep  to-night  feeling 
this  money,  all  I  have  in  the  world,  was  out 
of  my  hands  !  And  something  might  happen 
to  you.  I  think  —  you  will  understand  my 
feeling  —  that  I  will  take  it  to  the  bank  my 
self,  and  go  at  once." 

u  But  this  is  not  money,"  Mr.  Folsom  re 
plied,  taking  up  his  hat.  u  These  bogus  bills 
are  of  no  value  whatever." 

u  They  are  my  only  proofs  of  having  been 
paid  by  the  bank  in  counterfeit  money  !  "  she 
exclaimed  rapidly  in  a  high,  nervous  voice. 

He  took  a  backward  step  into  the  hall,  and 
was  plainly  at  a  loss  for  an  answer.  She  ex 
tended  her  hand,  and  exclaimed  in  a  more 
positive  tone, — 

"  I  demand  those  bills,  sir !  They  are 
mine,  and  it's  for  me  to  decide  what  becomes 
of  them  !  " 

"  Do  not  make  a  scene,  madame,"  he  an 
swered,  still  backing  toward  the  front  door. 
"  I  assure  you  there  is  no  need  of  it." 

But  his  paternal  manner  had  departed. 
She  saw  that  he  meant  to  keep  the  money, 
15 


Gloria  Victis     ~ 

and  her  anxiety  turned  swiftly  to  a  hideous 
fear.  This  fear,  however,  while  it  blanched 
her  cheeks  and  caused  her  eyes  to  dilate  in  a 
sudden  horror,  gave  the  force  to  act  upon  a 
quick  resolve. 

"  I  will  call  the  neighbors,  and  we  shall 
see ! " 

But  Mr.  Folsom  was  between  herself  and 
the  outer  door.  Being  a  woman  of  spirit  and 
decision,  and  determined  to  run  no  risks,  she 
turned  to  her  daughter,  pointed  toward  the 
rear  of  the  house,  and  cried, — 

"  Run,  Filippa,  and  tell  Mr.  Kendrick  to 
come  as  fast  as  he  can  !  Quick  !  " 

At  this  Mr.  Folsom  stepped  hastily  into  the 
room.  Madame  Zabarelli  shrunk  back  with 
an  exclamation  of  horror,  as  he  drew  a  re 
volver  from  an  inner  pocket  and  pointed  it 
toward  the  child.  The  click  of  the  hammer, 
as  he  cocked  the  weapon,  seemed  the  voice 
of  death.  Filippa  had  started  for  the  door, 
but  her  mother  seized  her  by  the  arm  and 
thrust  the  child  behind  her. 

"  Are  you  a  murderer  ?  "  she  whispered. 

He  lowered  the  weapon. 

"I  am  whatever  is  necessary  to  avoid  a 
16 


Gloria  Victis 

disturbance.  "*  If  you  care  for  your  own  life 
or  for  that  of  your  child,  you  will  not  leave 
this  house  within  an  hour.  Friends  of  mine 
are  watching  between  here  and  your  next 
neighbor.  And  they  know  what  to  do  if 
you  try  to  raise  an  alarm.  I  wish  you  no 
injury,  but  it  rests  entirely  with  yourself 
whether  this  interview  ends  peaceably  or 
with  bloodshed." 

Madame  Zabarelli  was  very  pale ;  her 
breath  came  quickly,  and  she  leaned  for  sup 
port  on  the  back  of  the  nearest  chair.  His 
story  of  the  accomplices  she  believed.  She 
straightened  up,  pressed  a  hand  against  her 
chest,  and  endeavored  to  be  calm. 

u  Listen,  sir,  before  you  take  that  money. 
It  is  all  I  have  in  the  world.  It  is  all  that 
is  left  of  my  husband's  savings,  —  of  our  ten 
years  of  hard  work,  —  of  all  our  economy. 
Without  it  my  child  and  I  are  paupers. 
We  have  nothing,  absolutely  nothing.  With 
it  I  can  buy  an  interest  in  a  little  business  ; 
but  if  you  take  it  "  —  here  her  voice  trembled 
and  she  seemed  on  the  point  of  breaking 
down ;  then  with  a  strong  effort  she  con 
tinued,  "  but  if  you  take  it  we  are  turned 

2  17 


Gloria  Victis 

into  the  street,  homeless,  without  a  cent  in 
the  world." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  he  interrupted. 
"  I  am  sorry,  of  course,  but  business  is  busi 
ness  j  and  now  that  you  know  me  better, 
don't  be  surprised  if  I  add  this  to  my  collec 
tion  j  "  and  with  a  step  forward  he  lifted  her 
watch  from  the  table. 

u  For  Heaven's  sake,  leave  me  that !  "  and 
she  thrust  forth  a  trembling  hand  in  protesta 
tion.  With  the  other  she  threw  back  the 
long  veil  that  had  fallen  before  her  eyes. 
Then,  with  quivering  lips  and  a  torturing 
effort  to  be  calm,  she  went  on  in  an  agitated, 
uneven  voice, — 

"  Leave  me  that  watch  !  It  was  my  dead 
husband's  gift  on  our  wedding  day.  To  me 
it  is  more  than  money.  I  —  I  will  send  you 
its  value  if  I  can  earn  it ;  only  —  "  At  this 
point  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes  and  her 
voice  broke. 

The  watch  was  dropped  into  an  outer 
pocket  of  the  voluminous  duster;  but  as  it 
disappeared,  Filippa,  in  an  excited,  angry 
tone,  cried  out  as  she  came  between  them  : 

"  You  are  a  wicked  man  to  take  that 
18 


Gloria  Victis 

watch  !  What  my  mother  says  is  true,  and 
you  ought  to  be  ashamed  !  " 

He  looked  down  and  smiled,  but  made  no 
sign  of  returning  the  watch.  As  he  again 
stepped  toward  the  hall,  Filippa,  upon  the 
impulse  of  a  sudden  thought,  began  tugging 
at  one  of  her  ringers. 

"  Here  !  Take  this !  It  is  a  ring  my 
grandma  gave  me,  and  brings  good  luck  to 
whoever  wears  it.  Inside  it  says,  '  God 
Bless  the  Wearer.'  You  take  it  and  leave 
the  watch  ;  "  and  reaching  high  up  above  her 
head  she  thrust  the  ring  toward  him.  He 
took  it,  and,  pushing  aside  the  winding  of 
thread  that  had  been  adjusted  to  fit  Filippa's 
finger,  he  examined  the  inscription, — 

To  F.  W.  Z.     God  Bless  the  Wearer. 

"Well,"  he  answered  with  a  ceremoni 
ous  bow,  looking  down  upon  the  upturned, 
angry  eyes,  half  threatening,  half  entreating, 
u  I  cannot  refuse  an  offer  from  such  a  fierce 
little  lady;"  and  he  returned  the  watch  to 
Madame  Zabarelli,  who  seized  it  with  eager 
fingers. 

"  And  now,"  he  continued,  with  a  respect- 
'9 


Gloria  Victis 

ful  salutation,  first  to  the  mother  and  then  to 
the  child,  "  you  must  excuse  me  if  I  go. 
And  remember  my  advice  about  leaving  the 
house  within  an  hour." 

He  turned,  put  on  his  hat,  walked  calmly 
out  of  the  cottage  and  through  the  yard,  un 
hitched  his  horse,  climbed  into  the  buggy,  and 
drove  briskly  toward  the  town.  Filippa  stood 
in  the  doorway  as  he  departed,  watching  him 
with  sorrowful  eyes.  To  lose  her  ring  was 
a  calamity,  but  it  was  a  heavier  blow  that  so 
nice  a  gentleman  should  turn  out  so  badly. 

Her  mother,  pale,  faint,  with  trembling 
limbs,  dropped  upon  the  nearest  chair,  and 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands.  In  another 
moment,  however,  she  started  to  her  feet, 
throwing  back  the  heavy  veil  that  had 
fallen  about  her  cheeks.  It  occurred  to  her 
that  the  robber,  from  his  pointing  along  the 
road  when  speaking  of  her  nearest  neigh 
bors,  knew  nothing  of  the  back  entrance  to 
the  street  behind.  She  consulted  her  watch. 
There  was  nearly  an  hour  before  the  next 
ferry-boat  left  the  island.  She  ran  for  Filippa's 
hat,  tied  it  hastily  upon  the  child's  head,  and 
without  stopping  to  lock  up  the  house,  hur- 
20 


Gloria  Victis 

ried  through  the  kitchen,  across  the  field 
behind,  through  the  Kendricks'  yard,  and 
was  just  in  time  to  get  a  horse-car  to  the 
town. 

,  She  would  catch  him  yet !  But,  to  her 
flying  spirit,  it  seemed  that  no  earthly  convey 
ance  ever  moved  so  slowly.  However,  when 
she  stopped  at  the  police  headquarters  there 
was  nearly  half  an  hour  to  spare.  Ten  min 
utes  later  the  alarm  had  been  given,  and  she, 
with  the  superintendent  himself,  was  at  the 
wharf  as  the  boat  came  in.  They  saw  that 
no  one  went  aboard  before  the  arriving  pas 
sengers  had  landed  ;  then,  in  a  shadowy  cor 
ner,  they  waited  for  the  thief. 

At  that  hour  of  the  afternoon  few  people 
left  the  island  for  the  city,  and  the  watchers' 
task  seemed  easy.  Of  the  dozen  or  more 
persons  who  came  down  the  wharf  and 
stepped  aboard  they  saw  no  one  who  bore 
enough  resemblance  to  the  bogus  Folsom  to 
excite  suspicion.  Although  the  officer  at  her 
side  impressed  upon  her  the  necessity  of  mak 
ing  the  greatest  allowance  for  disguises,  —  for 
age,  gait,  and  figure ;  for  wigs,  false  beards, 
for  raiment,  and  even  for  expression,  —  she 
21 


Gloria  Victis 

was  positive  that  none  who  passed  her  could 
have  impersonated  the  man  she  sought. 

She  scrutinized  briefly  and  with  little  interest 
a  man  of  thirty-five  or  forty,  with  short  brown 
hair  and  erect  figure,  clad  in  a  stylish  suit  of 
gray,  who  fanned  himself  with  his  hat  as  he 
stepped  aboard.  His  near-sighted  squint  in 
peering  through  a  pair  of  ill-fitting  glasses 
would  alone  have  allayed  suspicion,  for  it  was 
chiefly  by  Mr.  Folsom's  eyes  that  she  was 
sure  of  knowing  him. 

But  if  Madame  Zabarelli  could  have  opened 
the  little  satchel  this  gentleman  carried,  her 
interest  would  have  been  considerably  quick 
ened  by  the  discovery  of  a  loaded  revolver,  a 
linen  duster,  and  a  gray  wig. 


22 


II 


VX  7HEN  this  much  desired  traveller  reached 
the  city,  he  climbed  the  stairs  of  the 
Elevated  road  and  entered  a  Third  Avenue 
train.  Had  one  been  asked  to  indicate,  among 
the  passengers  in  this  car,  those  who  from 
physiognomy,  manners,  or  apparel  aroused  a 
suspicion  of  dishonesty,  Mr.  James  Wads- 
worth,  alias  Folsom,  would  not  have  figured 
in  the  list.  His  eyes  alone  would  have  de 
barred  him  from  the  competition.  In  man 
ner  he  was  dignified,  reserved,  and  considerate 
of  others.  His  garments  were  fashionable,  but 
not  showy ;  and  although  his  head  and  neck 
were  more  suggestive  of  the  "  sport "  than 
the  student,  there  was  something  about  the 
thin  lips  and  clean-cut  chin  that  recalled 
familiar  portraits  of  eminent  divines.  In 
voice  and  language  he  appeared  a  cultivated 
man,  which  was  natural  enough,  as  he  had 
received  a  liberal  education  and,  for  a  brief 
period,  had  studied  for  the  ministry.  This 
was  done  under  severe  parental  pressure,  with 
23 


Gloria  Victis 

intent  to  counteract,  if  possible,  certain  un- 
spiritual  tendencies  which  had  begun  to  alarm 
his  family.  But  while  possessing  in  rare 
perfection  the  voice  and  facial  qualifications 
for  a  holy  calling,  his  moral  machinery  was 
an  amusing  burlesque  upon  any  such  design  ; 
so  much  so  that  he  was  thoroughly  aware  of 
it  himself.  And  upon  his  father's  death  he 
lost  no  time  in  rectifying  the  paternal  error. 
This  he  accomplished  by  removing  to  the 
city  and  applying  his  unusual  gifts  to  the  dis 
comfiture  of  his  fellow-men.  His  successes 
in  these  more  congenial  pastures  were  numer 
ous,  and,  whenever  possible,  were  obtained  by 
gentlemanly  methods.  Of  course,  in  a  career 
where  the  law  persists  in  opposing  the  will  of 
a  resolute  citizen,  cases  occur  in  which  be 
nevolence  is  inexpedient;  but  for  these  Mr. 
Wads  worth  was  always  sorry.  His  sorrow, 
however,  never  retarded  his  digestion  or  dis 
turbed  his  sleep. 

On  this  occasion,  as  he  sat  by  the  open 
window  of  the  car,  he  felt  a  sorrow  that 
Madame  Zabarelli's  inconsiderate  perception 
had  prevented  his  securing  her  money  in  a 
peaceful  manner,  as  a  director  of  the  bank. 
24 


Gloria  Victis 

It  meant  that  one  more  victim  familiar  with 
his  useful  but  compromising  eyes  was  at 
large  in  the  world,  and  that  one  more  danger 
was  forever  before  him. 

At  Fourteenth  Street  he  left  the  train. 
After  an  errand  on  Broadway  he  returned 
toward  the  East  side,  along  Twentieth  Street. 
When  at  Gramercy  Park,  he  saw  coming  in 
his  direction,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street 
by  the  iron  fence,  a  pedestrian  who  seemed 
deep  in  thought.  Mr.  Wadsworth  crossed 
over  and  stood  before  him. 

"  How  are  you,  Foss  ?  "  he  said. 

u  Hullo,  Jim !  I  've  just  come  from  your 
house." 

«  Well,  come  back." 

"  No,  I  can  tell  you  here ;  "  and  he  stepped 
closer  to  the  iron  fence  to  make  way  for  a 
pair  of  baby  carriages  with  their  attendant 
nurses. 

Mr.  Foster  Graham  was  about  fifty  years 
of  age,  short,  slight,  and  somewhat  sporty  in 
apparel.  His  dark  skin  appeared  a  little  too 
loose  for  the  bones  of  his  face,  particularly 
about  the  long,  hard  mouth,  where  it  formed 
deep  creases  from  the  nose  to  the  chin. 


Gloria  Victis 

There  was  something  in  the  geography  of 
these  lines  that  suggested  a  sense  of  humor, 
although  the  habitual  presence  of  a  cigar,  for 
whose  security  the  mouth  was  perpetually 
elongated,  may  have  increased  this  effect. 
Mr.  Graham's  eyes  were  a  light  gray,  and 
they  moved  very  slowly.  Removing  a  freshly 
lighted  and  exceedingly  strong  cigar  from  his 
lips,  he  snapped  away  the  ash  and  remarked  : 

u  They  are  onto  us." 

Then  he  replaced  the  cigar  and  wriggled  it 
back  into  its  corner,  where  it  remained  during 
the  rest  of  the  interview. 

Over  Mr.  Wadsworth's  face  came  the  faint 
est  indication  of  uneasiness,  as  he  inquired  : 

"  The  watchman  ?  " 

His  companion  answered  by  an  affirmative 
nod,  and,  turning  about,  faced  the  iron  fence. 
As  the  two  men  stood  looking  through  the 
railing  upon  the  children  who  played  upon 
the  grass  within,  Mr.  Wadsworth  tightened 
his  lips  and  drew  a  hand  across  his  chin,  as 
Filippa  had  observed  a  few  hours  before. 
But  this  time  he  was  facing  a  far  more  dis 
quieting  possibility  than  his  errand  with 
Madame  Zabarelli  was  likely  to  create.  Two 
26 


Gloria  Victis 

months  before  this  interview,  about  three  in 
the  morning,  as  these  two  friends  were  en 
deavoring  to  open  the  safe  of  a  prominent 
financial  institution  in  a  certain  New  Jersey 
town,  they  were  surprised  by  the  watchman 
of  the  building.  All  details  of  the  interview 
were  still  a  mystery  ;  but  the  discovery  a  few 
hours  later  of  the  dying  watchman  with  a 
broken  skull  convinced  his  employers  that  he 
had  died  in  defence  of  their  property.  As  he 
left  a  wife  and  four  children  and  was  a  gen 
eral  favorite  with  all  who  knew  him,  his 
sudden  decease  had  aroused  considerable  feel 
ing.  While  the  would-be  robbers  failed  in 
the  real  object  of  their  visit,  no  public  sym 
pathy  had  thus  far  been  expressed  for  them. 
Although  an  exceptionally  large  reward  was 
offered  for  their  persons,  up  to  the  present 
moment  Mr.  Wadsworth  had  not  worried 
over  the  business,  as  he  and  his  partner  could 
think  of  no  evidence  likely  to  be  brought 
against  them.  He  always  regretted  violence  ; 
but  in  this  case  the  responsibility  rested,  of 
course,  with  the  intruder. 

"What    is    it?"    he    inquired.      "What 
have  they  got  ?  " 

27 


Gloria  Victis 

"  You  remember  the  milkman  we  had  to 
ask  about  the  trains  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  he  's  a  fly  mug.  He  turns  out  to 
be  one  of  them  smart  people  that  see  and 
remember  every  damned  thing  that  comes 
within  a  mile  of  'em." 

"  Could  he  describe  us  ?  " 

"  Describe  us !  There  ain't  a  tooth  in 
yer  mouth  nor  a  button  on  yer  clothes  — 
under-clothes,  too  —  that  he  did  n't  make  a 
note  of.  God  !  if  I  had  known  what  a  mil 
lion-eyed  rooster  he  was,  I  M  'a'  given  him 
the  whole  State  for  leeway  !  " 

There  was  a  silence,  during  which  the  two 
men  stood  looking  through  the  bars.  Mr. 
Wadsworth  took  off  his  hat  and  fanned 
himself. 

"  What  did  he  say  of  us  ?  " 

"  He  said  a  lot.  He  sized  me  up  from 
head  to  heel.  Hair,  eyes,  nose,  wrinkles, 
clothes,  voice,  teeth,  finger-joints,  cravat, 
warts,  buttons,  chain,  every  damned  thing  that 
a  man  can  carry,  he  got ;  and  he  got  it 
straight." 

Here  the  creases  at  the  unoccupied  end  of 
28 


Gloria  Victis 

Mr.  Graham's  mouth  formed  themselves  into 
a  smile,  and  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes  he 
moved  them  slowly  toward  his  companion. 

"And  his  catchin'  on  to  you  would  make 
a  hen  laugh.  He  said  the  tallest  man  of  the 
two  did  n't  look  like  a  thief;  he  looked  like 
a  lawyer,  except  his  eyes  were  too  honest. " 

Mr.  Wadsworth  smiled,  but  the  smile  was 
not  gleeful.  He  remembered  that  yet  another 
description  of  his  eyes  was  probably  on  its 
way  from  Staten  Island.  His  companion 
added, — 

u  Them  optics  '11  be  the  hangin'  of  you 
yet,  Jim.  Better  leave  'em  home  next  time 
you  travel  for  yer  health." 

"  I  will.    Where  did  you  get  all  this  ?  " 

"  From  Fatty  Barr,  straight.  You  know 
he  's  at  headquarters,  sort  of  a  clerk,  and  he 
copied  off  the  testimony.  But  what  puts  a 
move  on  me  more  'n  anything  is  that  two 
fellers  came  into  Brennan's  the  other  day,  and 
asked  when  I  was  most  likely  to  be  there  ;  and 
as  Brennan  recognized  one  of  'em  for  the  man 
who  spotted  Ikey  Turnbull  last  year,  I  ain't 
likely  to  be  there  very  regular  just  now." 

"  What 's  your  scheme,  Foss  ?  " 
29 


Gloria  Victis 

"  To  git.  To-morrow  morning  I  'm  on 
the  briny.  I  advise  you  to  get  a  move  on 
you,  too,  and  damn  sudden." 

Mr.  Wadsworth  appeared  to  be  thinking,  and 
again  drew  in  his  lips  and  slowly  rubbed  his  chin. 
Turning  his  back  to  the  fence,  he  said, — 

"  I  am  hoping  the  next  time  we  meet 
there  won't  be  so  many  iron  bars  just  in 
front  of  us.  They  hurt  the  view." 

"  Every  time." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  South  America,  and  you  'd  better  join 
the  procession." 

"  Can't.  I  've  got  a  wife  and  boy  on  my 
hands." 

Mr.  Graham  laid  a  finger  on  his  partner's 
chest  and  said  seriously,  with  a  grave  face : 

u  Now  don't  you  linger,  Jim.  It 's  gitt'n' 
hotter  every  twenty  minutes,  and  they're 
likely  to  close  in  on  you.  Take  my  advice. 
Better  be  a  live  man  in  Brazil  than  a  dead 
one  in  the  bosom  of  yer  family." 

"  Right  you  are  !  I  '11  settle  up  things  and 
light  out.  What 's  your  address  down  there  ? " 

Mr.  Graham  wrote  three  lines  upon  a 
piece  of  paper  and  handed  it  to  his  friend. 
30 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Be  sure  and  don't  put  my  name  on  that ; 
they  might  find  it  on  you." 

"  You  need  n't  worry.  By  the  way,  Foss, 
it 's  four  hundred  I  owe  you,  is  n't  it  ?  "  and 
from  an  inner  pocket  he  took  out  a  roll  of 
crisp,  new  bills. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.  'Tain't  what  I 
went  to  your  house  for." 

"  I  know  it,  but  there 's  a  chance  of  our 
not  meeting  again  where  money  's  any  good ; 
and  you  might  as  well  take  it  now." 

"  Thank  you." 

Then,  as  he  noticed  the  roll  was  composed 
of  one-hundred-dollar  notes,  he  added, — 

"  Had  a  graft,  I  guess." 

"  Yes,  but  don't  let  on,  as  I  had  trouble  in 
fetching  it  and  may  hear  from  the  job.  It 
comes  in  mighty  well,  though,  for  things  look 
as  if  I  might  need  it.  These  sudden  changes 
are  expensive." 

With  the  side  of  his  mouth  that  was  away 
from  the  cigar  Mr.  Graham  smiled. 

"  It  only  proves  there  's  a  Providence.  God 
looks  out  for  his  pet  lambs." 

Mr.  Wadsworth  also  smiled,  this  time  with 
more  enjoyment. 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  the  Lord  is  generous  if 
you  work  him  right,  and  when  we  get  to  Brazil 
we  '11  continue  our  labors  in  the  vineyard." 

Here  Mr.  Graham,  without  removing  his 
cigar,  brought  the  tips  of  his  ten  fingers 
together  with  a  clerical  gesture,  and  remarked 
with  pompous  dignity,  — 

"  And  I  have  long  felt,  Brother  Wads- 
worth,  that  the  holy  gospel  should  not  be 
withheld  from  the  wealthy  heathen." 

Then  with  smiling  faces  they  shook  hands 
and  parted,  not  to  meet  again  this  side 
the  Styx. 

As  Mr.  Wadsworth  continued  his  home 
ward  journey,  still  to  the  eastward,  his 
thoughts  were  disquieting.  He  knew  Foss 
Graham  too  well  to  doubt  the  truth  of  the 
information  just  received,  and  were  it  not  for 
his  family,  he  would  be  on  the  open  sea 
to-night.  But  so  sudden  a  departure  needed 
skilful  explanations. 

Passing  through  Stuyvesant  Square,  he 
seated  himself  upon  an  empty  bench  to 
decide  on  the  style  of  fiction  Mrs.  Wadsworth 
would  be  most  likely  to  accept.  His  hat  he 
laid  upon  the  seat  beside  him ;  and  soon  the 
32 


Gloria  Victis 

cool  shade,  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  above 
his  head,  together  with  the  voices  of  children 
at  their  play,  produced  a  soothing  effect  upon 
nerves  still  calm  and  firm,  but  which  had 
already  that  day  twice  experienced  a  fatiguing 
tension. 

He  might  have  floated  off  into  a  gentle 
slumber  were  it  not  for  the  somewhat 
stirring  news  he  had  just  received.  Even 
a  man  of  Mr.  Wadsworth's  temperament 
finds  it  difficult  to  attain  a  perfect  peace 
of  mind  with  the  shadow  of  the  gallows  too 
distinctly  outlined  across  his  path.  His  eyes 
closed,  however,  and,  as  thus  he  reclined,  the 
outward  effigy  of  a  tranquil  soul,  his  brain,  of 
a  sudden,  awoke  in  swift  alarm,  and  all  his 
senses  became  painfully  acute.  Behind  him 
he  heard  stealthy  footsteps  upon  the  gravel 
walk,  of  some  one  cautiously  approaching. 
Mr.  Wadsworth  was  a  man  of  swift  resolves 
and  decisive  action,  but  this  time  he  felt  the 
game  was  up.  He  made  no  motion  ;  even 
his  eyes  remained  closed.  The  man  behind 
him,  if  the  one  he  feared,  was  sure  to  be 
armed,  and  sure  to  be  accompanied  by  a 
mate.  They  always  came  in  pairs.  And 
3  33 


Gloria  Victis 

when  a  hand  fell  heavily  upon  his  shoulder, 
an  involuntary  tremor  shot  up  his  spine  and 
died  frigidly  away  among  the  nerves  of  his 
scalp.  If  a  passer-by  had  bent  down  and 
peered  close  into  his  face,  he  might  have  seen 
less  color  than  usual  about  his  lips ;  but  no 
muscles  moved.  Judging  from  appearances, 
his  cherubic  slumbers  were  undisturbed.  In 
wardly  there  was  sudden  despair.  Before 
him  he  saw  a  long  trial  with  damning  evi 
dence  and  certain  death,  —  the  death  of  a 
common  criminal,  —  and  he  thought  of  his 
wife  and  his  boy ;  but  all  was  instantaneous, 
—  a  swift  prophetic  flash,  like  a  knife  through 
a  desperate  heart. 

But  from  this  despair  he  was  as  swiftly 
elevated  to  an  ecstatic  relief,  and  all  by 
another  movement  of  the  hand  upon  his 
shoulder.  It  crept  slowly  toward  his  neck, 
and  fingers  that  he  now  recognized  as  those 
of  a  child  travelled  playfully  about  his  ears. 
He  yielded,  however,  to  no  nervous  impulses, 
for  Mr.  Wadsworth  was  a  "  dead  game 
sport."  He  was  the  last  man  to  display  out 
ward  symptoms  of  his  inward  joys  —  or  of 
his  tribulations. 

34 


Gloria  Victis 

u  Steve,"  he  said  quietly. 

"  Did  I  scare  you,  pop  ? "  came  in  a 
child's  voice ;  and  a  boy  of  ten  stepped  out 
from  behind  the  seat  and  stood  before  him. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  smiled  an  affectionate  wel 
come  into  a  pair  of  eyes  exactly  like  his  own. 
They  were  fully  as  honest,  even  more  so  if 
possible,  bearing  the  same  glad  tidings  of  a 
soul  overladen  with  truth,  from  which  the 
Heaven-born  light,  pure  and  invigorating, 
shed  forth  support  and  guidance  for  less  im 
maculate  mortals.  Like  his  father,  these  eyes 
were  his  striking  feature;  otherwise  his  face 
bore  nothing  unusual  to  impress  a  stranger. 
He  had  the  fresh,  wholesome  complexion  of 
those  who  are  fond  of  exercise  and  whose 
digestions  are  friendly. 

When  he  smiled,  and  his  smile  came  easily 
as  from  an  open  nature,  the  honest  eyes  joined 
in  and  formed  an  irresistible  harmony.  In 
the  presence  of  such  a  combination  prolonged 
hostility,  or  even  suspicion,  was  impossible. 
The  smile  possessed  an  inviting  quality,  creat 
ing  in  the  beholder  a  strong  desire  for  further 
and  more  intimate  relations  with  its  owner. 
This  inheritance,  so  successfully  transmitted 
35 


Gloria  Victis 

from  the  father  to  the  son,  was  of  priceless 
value  to  one  ordained,  by  instinct  and  by  edu 
cation,  for  the  beguilement  and  circumvention 
of  his  fellow  creatures.  It  might  appear  that  a 
compensating  Providence  had  bestowed  these 
efficient  weapons  in  atonement  for  certain 
moral  deficiencies. 

This  boy  had  also  inherited  a  splendid  phy 
sique.  Erect,  deep-chested,  and  broad-shoul 
dered,  he  stood  firmly  on  his  feet,  and  had 
already  begun  to  have  that  solid  look  about 
the  legs  and  shoulders  that  we  associate  with 
the  professional  gymnast.  His  straightness  was 
not  from  any  effort  of  his  own,  but  because  the 
compensating  Providence  had  so  constructed. 
The  expression  of  his  face  was  cheerful  and 
alert,  more  responsive  and  sympathetic  than 
his  father's ;  less  hard  about  the  mouth, 
and  the  lips  were  fuller  and  with  gentler 
curves. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  regarded  the  figure  before 
him  with  grateful  relief.  And  besides,  he 
was  proud  of  his  son.  He  was  proud  of  his 
strength,  of  his  self-reliance  and  his  pluck. 
He  knew  him  to  possess  qualities  in  which  he 
himself  was  deficient,  some  of  which  he  ad- 


Gloria  Victis 

mired ;  others  he  did  not  fully  understand,  and 
of  these  he  was  a  little  afraid. 

"  Did  I  scare  you,  pop  ? " 

"  I  nearly  fainted." 

The  boy  laughed,  and  laid  a  hand  on  his 
father's  knee. 

u  Well,  you  did  n't  know  at  first  who  it 
was,  anyway !  " 

"  No ;  I  thought  it  might  be  —  Queen 
Victoria.  But  her  fingers  are  cleaner  than 
yours,  I  'm  thinking.  How  did  you  bark  your 
knuckle  ? " 

The  boy  looked  at  his  fist,  then  drew  a  hand 
kerchief  from  his  pocket  and  endeavored  to 
remove  the  stains. 

"That's  a  nice,  fresh-looking  handker 
chief,"  his  father  remarked.  u  Been  wiping 
up  the  street  with  it  ?  " 

As  the  grime  and  gore  were  transferred 
from  the  hand  to  the  many-tinted  cloth,  one 
or  two  small  cuts  were  disclosed,  which  were 
still  bleeding. 

"  How  did  you  do  it  ?  " 

As  no  answer  came,  it  was  evident  to  the 
father,  who  knew  his  son,  that  the  issue  was 
being  dodged.  With  a  frown  he  asked,  — 
37 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Been  fighting  again  ?  " 

"  No  ;  not  a  real  fight." 

"  How  was  it  ?  " 

"  Over  in  the  other  square,  a  little  while 
ago.  I  was  coming  through,  and  saw  a  quarter 
rolling  along,  right  in  the  walk.  When  I 
picked  it  up  and  shoved  it  in  my  pocket,  the 
little  chap  what  was  chasing  it  —  " 

"  Who  was  chasing  it." 

"  —  who  was  chasing  it,  began  to  kick  up 
a  row  to  have  it  back.  He  was  a  little  dude, 
dressed  like  a  sailor,  with  long  yellow  hair;" 
and  on  the  narrator's  face  there  came  a  smile 
of  contemptuous  pity.  "  Just  as  I  lit  out  to 
get  away  from  his  yellin'  a  feller  caught  me 
by  the  collar,  behind.  I  twisted  round,  and 
there  was  a  sucker,  that  high,  a  grocer's  boy, 
with  a  basket;"  and  he  held  a  hand  about  a 
foot  above  his  own  head. 

His  father  smiled.  u  Luck  was  against  you 
that  time,  old  man." 

"  No,  it  was  n't !  "  said  the  boy,  with  a 
slow  twist  of  the  head.  "  He  told  me  to  hand 
back  the  quarter,  and  I  said  I  wouldn't. 
Then  there  was  chinnin',  but  I  did  n't  bull 
doze  for  a  cent,  and  he  just  hauled  ofF  and  let 
38 


Gloria  Victis 

me  have  one  between  the  eyes.  But  it  did  n't 
hurt  anybody.  Then  I  plunked  him  three 
or  four  peaches,  one  of  'em  on  the  mouth, 
and  his  teeth  cut  me.  I  left  him  sitting  on 
a  seat  trying  to  keep  his  face  clean." 

Mr.  Wadsworth's  impassive  face  gave  no 
outward  sign  of  his  pride  in  this  achievement, 
as  he  did  not  believe  in  too  much  fighting 
either  among  boys  or  men.  There  was 
nothing  to  gain  by  it. 

"And  you  have  spent  the  quarter  already, 
I  suppose." 

"  No,  sir  ;  not  yet." 

There  was  something  in  the  manner  of  the 
reply  that  suggested  prevarication. 

"  Let 's  see  it." 

"  What  ? " 

"  The  quarter." 

The  young  athlete  searched  through  every 
pocket,  then  fixed  the  superlatively  honest  eyes 
upon  those  of  his  parent,  and  exclaimed,  — 

"  Jiminy  !   I  've  lost  it  !  " 

But  the  senior  Wadsworth  had  known  these 
eyes  from  infancy.  Besides,  he  had  a  similar 
pair  himself,  and  he  was  not  deceived. 

"  Steve,  is  that  whole  yarn  a  fake  ?  " 
39 


Gloria  Victis 

"  No,  pop  !   straight  and  honest,  it  ain't." 

"  It  is  w'/,  you  mean." 

"It  isn't." 

"  Then  where  's  the  quarter  ?  " 

For  a  moment  the  youth  looked  half 
ashamed.  Then  he  made  a  reluctant  confes 
sion. 

u  Well,  as  long  as  I  had  licked  the  big 
feller,  and  the  little  one  felt  so  broke  up  over 
it,  I  just  gave  his  money  back  to  him." 

Mr.  Wadsworth  looked  away  and  appeared 
interested  in  a  passing  citizen.  This  was 
not  the  first  time  his  son  had  yielded  to  a 
foolish  sentiment  and  lost  his  hard-earned 
gains.  He  could  hardly  scold  him  for  it,  and 
yet  such  ideas,  if  they  became  a  habit,  must 
of  necessity  be  an  obstacle  to  success.  Steve 
saw,  as  he  anticipated,  that  he  had  dimmed 
the  glory  of  his  victory. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  rose  to  his  feet  and  took 
out  his  watch. 

"Nearly  five  o'clock.  We  must  be  get 
ting  home." 

As  they  walked  away  together,  hand  in 
hand,  out  of  the  park  and  along  an  adjacent 
street,  the  boy  maintained  a  conversation 
4° 


Gloria  Victis 

touching  on  many  subjects,  but  in  which  his 
companion  took  but  a  fitful  interest.  For 
Mr.  Wadsworth  had  much  to  think  of. 
There  are  many  things  to  be  adjusted  before 
a  father  can  leave  his  home  forever,  espe 
cially  at  sudden  notice ;  and  in  this  case 
there  were  outside  complications  not  likely  to 
hamper  the  usual  citizen.  His  wife  caused 
him  more  embarrassment  at  the  present  crisis 
than  any  other  features  of  the  dilemma.  He 
was  a  good  husband,  and  reasonably  fond  of 
her  ;  and  she  was  the  mother  of  Steve,  whom 
he  loved  even  better  than  himself;  but  he 
anticipated  trouble,  not  so  much  because  of 
her  unvarying  and  unassailable  selfishness, 
but  because,  of  all  women  who  had  thus  far 
come  upon  this  earth,  she  was,  in  all  human 
probability,  the  most  tempestuous  and  un 
reasonable. 

The  Wadsworth  home,  on  the  ninth  floor 
of  a  pretentious  but  cheaply  constructed 
apartment  house  a  short  distance  from  Stuy- 
vesant  Square,  consisted  of  a  sitting-room, 
two  chambers,  and  a  bath-room.  The  small 
chamber  was  occupied  by  Steve,  the  larger 
one  by  his  parents.  All  were  on  the  rear  of 
41 


Gloria  Victis 

the  building,  looking  south  ;  and  the  view 
from  the  windows  included  the  entire  city  to 
the  south,  the  rivers  on  the  east  and  west,  a 
portion  of  the  harbor,  all  of  Brooklyn,  and 
the  distant  hills  in  New  Jersey.  The  in 
terior  of  the  apartment  was  less  inspiring. 
In  the  sitting-room,  plush  furniture,  cheaply 
made  and  of  showy  colors,  had  become 
shabby  and  uninviting.  The  carpet  showed 
a  lighter  shade  in  diverging  paths  around  the 
centre  table,  and  in  places  near  the  window 
the  boards  beneath  were  visible.  Along  cer 
tain  spaces  of  shelves  and  tables  the  dust  was 
undisturbed.  A  large  gilt  clock  upon  the 
mantel  had  received  a  blow  from  some  flying 
object  that  had  shattered  its  face  and  discour 
aged  its  interior.  The  two  chambers  were 
furnished  in  corresponding  taste,  and  were 
administered  by  the  same  housekeeper. 

Upon  entering  the  sitting-room  and  find 
ing  no  one  there,  Mr.  Wadsworth  asked 
Stephen  if  he  happened  to  know  where  his 
mother  had  gone. 

"  No  ;  only  that  she  got  on  that  car." 

«  What  car  ?  " 

tt  Why,  the  Second  Avenue  car/' 
42 


Gloria  Victis 

«  When  ?  " 

"  Why,  pop,  I  told  you  on  the  way  over 
that  I  saw  her  getting  on  to  a  car  about  an 
hour  ago." 

"  I  did  n't  hear  you.    Was  she  alone  ?  " 

Steve  turned  his  eyes  away ;  then,  with  a 
side  glance  toward  his  father,  shook  his  head 
in  the  negative. 

"Wallace?" 

Steve  bobbed  his  head. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  muttered  something,  and 
his  face  took  an  unpleasant  expression.  He 
was  a  man  who  controlled  his  feelings ;  and 
as  he  tossed  his  hat  upon  a  sofa  and  strode 
into  the  adjoining  chamber,  Stephen  knew 
that  his  anger  was  deeper  than  it  appeared. 
Mr.  Wallace,  the  leading  tenor  in  a  second- 
rate  theatre,  was  a  person  of  neither  beauty, 
intelligence,  nor  physique  ;  but  with  hair  and 
voice  he  was  lavishly  endowed.  His  raven 
locks,  curly  and  somewhat  longer  than  fash 
ion  required,  excited  no  envy  in  other  men, 
but  upon  the  female  heart  they  took  a  power 
ful  hold.  So  also  with  his  voice.  Male 
members  of  the  audience  waited  in  patient 
silence  until  his  song  was  finished,  and  were 
43 


Gloria  Victis 

happier  when  the  end  arrived ;  but  the  av 
erage  woman  hung  with  passionate  thirst 
upon  his  blatant,  reedy  notes,  and  yearned 
to  possess  him.  He  appeared  seriously  in 
love  with  Mrs.  Wadsworth ;  and  as  Mrs. 
Wadsworth  was  certainly  no  stronger  or 
more  discriminating  than  the  average  woman, 
her  husband  had  excellent  reasons  for  becom 
ing  anxious.  In  vain  he  pointed  out  the 
dangers  of  the  situation.  More  than  once 
he  had  argued  with  her  kindly  and  not  in 
anger,  and  she  had  promised  to  forego  the 
tenor;  but  the  promise  was  hard  to  keep, 
and  Mr.  Wadsworth  became  the  victim  of 
some  discouraging  suspicions. 

When  he  reappeared,  some  moments  later, 
in  his  shirt-sleeves,  he  returned  the  smile  with 
which  Stephen  greeted  him.  Seating  himself 
by  the  open  window,  he  took  a  little  gold 
ring  from  his  pocket. 

"  Here  's  a  present  for  you,  Steve." 

His  son  approached  and  leaned  against 
the  paternal  knees. 

"A   gold   ring?" 

"  Yes,  and  one  that  will  bring  luck  to 
whoever  wears  it." 

44 


Gloria  Victis 

As  he  spoke,  he  was  cutting  with  his 
penknife  the  silken  thread  that  had  been 
laboriously  wound  about  it. 

«  What 's  all  that  thread  for  ?  " 

"To  make  it  fit  the  one  who  owned  it 
before." 

"  He  must  have  been  a  mighty  small  boy  !  " 

u  It  was  n't  a  boy ;   it  was  a  girl." 

"  Did  she  give  it  to  you  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

With  the  silk  removed  it  was  found  to  be 
a  perfect  fit  for  Stephen's  smallest  finger. 
He  slipped  it  on  and  off,  held  it  up  at  various 
angles,  and  was  pleased  with  his  present. 
He  discovered  the  inscription  along  the  inside 
and  read  it  aloud  :  " '  To  F.  W.  Z.  God 
Bless  the  Wearer.'  What  does  F.  W.  Z. 
stand  for,  pop  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  the  initials  of  some  other  owner ; 
but  you  wear  it,  and  always  keep  it  on  your 
finger.  As  you  get  bigger  a  jeweller  can  let 
it  out  a  little.  Don't  take  it  ofF  any  more 
than  you  have  to." 

«  All  right ;  I  '11  never  take  it  off." 

u  And  if  your  mother  should  notice  and 
ask  about  it,  or  want  to  take  it  in  her  hand, 
45 


Gloria  Victis 

why,  tell  her  you  can't  get  it  off.  Tell  her 
you  found  it  in  the  street." 

Before  placing  it  finally  on  his  finger,  Steve 
read  again  the  loving  legend. 

"  God  '11  bless  me  right  along,  won't  he  ? 
all  the  time  I  wear  it  ? " 

«  Very  likely." 

"  That  '11  be  a  good  thing.     Won't  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  so." 

"  How  does  it  work  ?  How  '11  I  be  dif 
ferent  ? " 

"  It  will  bring  you  luck,  and  —  and  make 
you  good." 

The  boy  reflected. 

"  There  's  no  use  in  being  too  good." 

"  No,  not  in  this  world." 


Ill 

AN  hour  later  they  still  awaited  Mrs. 
^  Wadsworth's  return.  It  was  half-past 
six,  and  both  were  hungry.  The  father,  sit 
ting  near  the  door,  was  looking  over  papers, 
destroying  those  whose  testimony  he  con 
sidered  dangerous.  Upon  the  table  before 
him  stood  a  bust,  the  size  of  life,  of  a  famous 
pugilist.  This  was  done  in  plaster,  but 
smeared  with  an  unpleasant  tint  suggesting 
bronze  :  merely  a  suggestion,  however,  as  no 
one  could  be  misled.  Steve,  the  owner,  now 
lounging  near  the  window  absorbed  in  the  biog 
raphy  of  a  distinguished  train-robber,  had  won 
it  in  a  raffle,  and  valued  it  far  above  dollars. 

At  last  a  key  was  inserted  in  the  outer 
door;  then  a  showy  presence  filled  the  room. 

One  glance  at  Stephen's  mother  would 
explain  the  infatuation  of  many  Wallaces. 
A  magnificent  physical  triumph,  Mrs.  Wads- 
worth  seemed  more  than  enough  to  turn  the 
47 


Gloria  Victis 

head  of  the  diminutive  tenor,  a  man  with 
neither  length,  breadth,  nor  digestion ;  nor  even 
passable  legs.  Tall,  and  beautifully  propor 
tioned,  she  was  also  perfectly  erect,  with  a 
splendid  carriage.  This  she  had  bequeathed 
to  Stephen,  his  best  inheritance  from  his 
mother.  Her  features  were  those  of  an 
Olympian  goddess  ;  her  eyes  were  handsome. 
In  fact,  nothing  seemed  forgotten  in  her 
physical  outfit.  But  she  herself  had  lived 
exclusively  upon  these  gifts.  Her  expression 
was  neither  amiable  nor  contented ;  the  roses 
in  her  cheeks  were  painted  by  a  heavier  hand 
than  that  of  her  Creator,  and  her  hair  was 
that  golden  yellow  which  deceives  no  one  but 
the  wearer. 

As  she  stepped  to  the  centre  table  and 
removed  an  elaborate  hat  with  crimson  plumes, 
her  husband  was  reminded  of  Filippa's  doll. 
To  a  doubting  spouse  it  was  not  a  sooth 
ing  resemblance,  and  his  face  expressed  his 
thought.  She  caught  the  look,  and  remarked, 
in  the  manner  of  one  who  has  a  chip  upon 
the  shoulder, — 

"  Well,  what  are  you  ugly  about  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  ugly,  but  it  is  pretty  tough  on 


Gloria  Victis 

any  man  to  have  his  wife  stumping  around 
the  town  with  a  thing  like  Wallace." 

She  looked  across  the  table  into  the  mirror, 
and,  adjusting  the  yellow  locks  with  hands  that 
glistened  with  enormous  jewels,  replied,  with 
assumed  indifference, — 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  I  ain't 
seen  him  for  a  week." 

"  You  went  off  with  him  about  three  hours 
ago  in  a  Second  Avenue  car." 

She  appeared  surprised,  and  her  expression 
became  less  indifferent. 

"  Did  I,  really  ?  " 

"You  did."   J 

"  I  thought  you  were  the  man  who  went 
out  of  town  to-day." 

"  I  did." 

"  Then  who  told  you  that  lie  ?  "  and  the 
handsome  eyes  became  hard  as  they  turned 
with  an  ominous  glitter  toward  the  boy  at  the 
window. 

"  I  saw  you  myself.  " 

"  Then  you  got  back  in  season  to  sneak 
around  after  your  wife  for  a  while. " 

Mr.  Wadsworth  made  a  strong  effort  to 
control  himself. 

4  49 


Gloria  Victis 

u  Look  here,  Fanny,"  he  said  in  a  calm  tone, 
as  he  arose  and  stood  facing  her,  "  that 's  a 
poor  bluff.  You  are  bringing  trouble  on  your 
self  and  shame  to  the  rest  of  us.  That  sort 
of  thing  doesn't  go  down.  You've  got  to 
stop  it  right  here." 

She  raised  her  chin  and  looked  him  coldly 
in  the  face. 

"  You  don't  say  so." 

Mr.  Wadsworth  made  another  effort  to 
keep  his  temper  j  slowly,  and  in  a  harder 
voice  he  answered,  — 

"  I  do  say  so ;  and  this  time  I  mean  it. 
I  don't  share  my  wife  with  any  half-grown, 
bleating,  hairy  freak." 

At  this  epithet  a  change  came  over  Mrs. 
Wadsworth's  face  that  caused  her  husband's 
expression  to  turn  swiftly  from  anger  to 
apprehension.  It  also  brought  Stephen  to  his 
feet.  This  lady's  tempers  were  more  than 
disastrous,  they  were  destructive ;  and  when 
they  occurred  all  other  business  in  her  vicin 
ity  was  hastily  abandoned.  But  their  vio 
lence  and  their  frequency  had  developed 
a  systematic  treatment  on  the  part  of  her 
present  companions  which  was  applied  not 


Gloria  Victis 

only  for  their  own  preservation  but  for  that 
of  the  furniture.  So,  when  her  face  became 
suddenly  a  ghastly  white,  with  no  trace  of 
color  save  the  two  painted  spots  upon  her 
cheeks,  and  this  pallor  as  swiftly  drowned 
in  a  crimson  flush  as  though  her  blood  were 
bursting  through  the  skin,  then  the  father 
exchanged  a  hasty  glance  with  his  son,  and 
both  moved  cautiously  toward  her,  each  from 
his  own  end  of  the  table.  The  woman  be 
fore  them,  insane  for  the  time  being  from  the 
intensity  of  a  resistless,  unreasoning  fury, 
still  retained  the  instincts  of  a  beast  at  bay. 
Seizing  a  roller  skate  that  lay  upon  the  table, 
she  hurled  it  with  accurate  aim  and  with 
murderous  force  at  the  head  of  her  approach 
ing  husband.  He  dodged  it,  and  it  struck 
the  noted  pugilist  full  across  the  mouth, 
smashing  him  into  hopeless  chaos.  Quickly 
she  reached  for  the  companion  missile  and 
raised  it  aloft ;  but  before  it  could  depart, 
Mr.  Wadsworth  had  sprung  to  her  side  and 
seized  both  her  wrists.  Steve  in  the  mean 
time,  and  with  equal  promptness,  dropped  to 
his  knees  at  her  feet,  threw  his  arms  about 
the  maternal  legs,  his  face  deep  buried  in  her 


Gloria  Victis 

skirt,  and  held  her  with  an  iron  grip.  Then 
the  husband  and  the  son,  with  the  ease  and 
precision  that  come  from  practice,  brought 
her  gently  to  the  floor. 

She  also  had  learned  from  experience :  she 
had  learned,  among  other  things,  that  against 
these  two  athletes  resistance  was  of  no  avail. 
But  her  tongue  was  free.  Mr.  Wadsworth, 
while  holding  her  as  gently  as  possible,  became 
the  recipient  of  curses  so  emphatic,  so  varied, 
and  so  ingeniously  insulting  as  to  have  been 
insupportable  had  they  come  from  other  lips. 
But  he  was  well  aware  that  the  woman  who 
uttered  them  had  become  an  irresponsible 
being ;  a  fact  also  recognized  with  filial  sym 
pathy  by  the  son,  although  he  clutched  her 
knees  with  an  unyielding  grip. 

In  two  or  three  minutes,  when  safety  per 
mitted,  Mr.  Wadsworth  loosened  his  hold, 
Steve  followed  his  example,  the  lady  climbed 
slowly  to  her  feet,  and  the  family  relations,  to 
all  appearance,  continued  as  before. 

It  was  a  hard  thing  to  live  with,  this  temper, 
and  the  day  was  one  of  sorrow  for  Mr.  Wads- 
worth  when  he  first  discovered  what  a  cruel 
heritage  had  fallen  to  his  son.  With  all  a 


Gloria  Victis 

father's  affection  for  an  only  child  —  and  for 
this  boy  his  love  was  greater  than  for  himself 
—  he  endeavored  by  every  means  within  his 
knowledge  at  first  to  suppress,  and  finally  to 
reason  with  and  to  control  these  outbursts. 
But  the  reward  was  meagre ;  for  the  boy,  al 
though  himself  ashamed  of  and  ever  doing  his 
best  to  avert  them,  was  powerless  to  conquer. 
They  overtook  him,  these  spasms  of  fury, 
not  often,  but  with  sufficient  frequency  to 
reclaim  their  victim,  and  to  show  him  that 
human  vigilance  was  of  no  avail.  Between 
himself  and  Mrs.  Wadsworth,  however,  ex 
isted  an  important  distinction :  the  mother 
after  these  attacks  remained  sullen  and  vin 
dictive.  With  the  son  there  was  an  eagerness 
to  make  the  fullest  atonement. 

Half  an  hour  later,  when  they  quitted  the 
apartment  and  walked  to  a  neighboring  res 
taurant  for  dinner,  no  observer  would  have 
presumed  to  suspect  this  stately  and  preten 
tious  female  of  her  recent  behavior.  During 
the  meal  she  showed  no  signs  of  resentment, 
and  her  amiability  caused  her  two  companions 
not  only  an  unwonted  pleasure  but  a  mild 
surprise.  This  amiability  was  the  result  of  a 
53 


Gloria  Victis 

swift  decision.  Behind  loving  smiles  and 
cheerful  conversation  she  was  perfecting  a 
plan  by  which  to  paralyze  the  wicked  and 
reward  the  virtuous,  all  by  a  single,  sudden 
action,  splendidly  dramatic  in  its  irreparable 
results.  Her  external  sweetness  was  ably 
maintained  until  the  hour  for  action ;  and 
the  hour  for  action  was  close  at  hand. 

At  the  door  of  the  apartment  house  Mr. 
Wadsworth  left  them,  saying  it  would  be 
late  in  the  evening  before  he  returned.  He 
noticed  that  his  wife's  expression  was  one  of 
unusual  gentleness;  and  had  his  knowledge 
of  her  character  been  less  complete,  he  might 
have  laid  it  to  affection,  or,  at  least,  to  self- 
forgetfulness.  But,  whatever  the  cause,  it 
was  unfamiliar,  and  he  recalled  it  later. 

Upon  entering  the  apartment  Mrs.  Wads- 
worth,  without  removing  her  hat,  went  directly 
to  a  desk  and  wrote  a  note.  After  sealing 
and  directing  it,  she  came  toward  Steve, 
who  occupied  his  favorite  perch  at  the 
window,  absorbed  in  the  "  Lives  of  Famous 
Robbers." 

"Steve,  I  want  you  to  take  this  — " 
Then  she  hesitated,  and,  remembering  his 
54 


Gloria  Victis 

fidelity  to  his  father,  decided  that  in  this  emer 
gency  he  was  not  to  be  trusted. 

"  Ring  for  the  elevator,"  she  said  in  a 
harder  voice ;  and  she  passed  into  the  adjoin 
ing  chamber. 

When  the  elevator  arrived  she  herself  took 
out  the  note,  and  Steve  heard  her  say  to  the 
boy, — 

"  Give  this  to  a  messenger  at  once,  and 
tell  him  he  will  get  an  extra  quarter  for  a 
quick  answer." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  the  answer  came. 
After  reading  it  she  turned  to  Stephen  with 
her  sweetest  smile,  and  inquired  if  he  would 
like  to  go  to  the  theatre  this  evening.  The 
reply,  as  anticipated,  was  an  emphatic  affirma 
tive.  She  placed  a  fifty-cent  piece  in  his 
hand,  and  told  him  to  select  his  own  perform 
ance.  He  was  surprised,  but  lost  no  time 
in  waiting,  and  at  once  departed,  marvelling 
at  this  uncommon  but  delightful  exhibition 
of  a  mother's  love. 

When  he  returned,  three  hours  later,  the 
rooms  were  dark  and  silent.  He  stepped  to 
the  doorway  of  her  chamber  and  whispered,  — 

"  Ma." 

55 


Gloria  Victis 

No  answer  came.  Then  he  spoke  again 
in  a  louder  voice,  but  there  was  no  response. 
The  voiceless  gloom  of  the  apartment  seemed 
a  living  thing,  concealing  some  mysterious 
calamity.  But  Stephen's  nerves  were  not 
of  the  kind  that  flutter.  He  struck  a 
match  and  lit  the  gas.  Over  the  floor,  upon 
the  bed  and  chairs,  were  scattered  various 
articles  of  woman's  clothing,  —  here  a  skirt 
and  there  a  hat,  with  occasional  shoes  and 
undergarments ;  bed  clothes,  pillows,  news 
papers,  and  empty  hat-boxes.  The  bureau 
drawers  were  open  and  empty ;  the  closet 
doors  were  open,  and  the  closets  were  empty. 
The  contents  of  the  room  had  been  thoroughly 
overhauled. 

He  was  puzzled,  and  for  a  moment  sus 
pected  a  robbery ;  but  where  was  his  mother  ? 
Robbers  could  never  take  her  away.  Tucked 
in  the  mirror  above  the  bureau  was  a  folded 
paper.  Going  nearer,  he  read  the  address, 
MR.  JAMES  WADSWORTH,  in  his  mother's 
writing.  He  pulled  it  out  and  opened  it. 

DEAR  JIM,  —  You  and  I  don't  hit  it  very  well, 
and  I  leave  you  for  somebody  who  understands 
me  better,  and  you  need  n't  try  to  follow  me,  be- 


Gloria  Victis 

cause  I  shall  be  miles  away  from  this  town  when 
you  read  these  lines.  You  can  have  Steve.  I  am 
writing  this  in  great  haste ;  so  good-by  from 

FANNY  WADSWORTH. 

Steve  read  this  twice,  very  slowly,  for  its 
full  significance  was  difficult  to  grasp.  But 
he  finally  understood.  She  had  left  dad  and 
him  for  Wallace  !  Refolding  the  paper,  he 
tucked  it  in  the  frame  of  the  mirror  where 
he  had  found  it,  then  he  walked  back  to  the 
sitting-room  window,  and,  leaning  over  the 
sill  in  his  favorite  position,  looked  out  over 
the  sleeping  city.  It  seemed  vaster  than  ever, 
and  farther  below  him. 

He  took  no  interest  in  the  rising  moon  or  its 
shimmering  light  upon  the  river  to  the  east. 
With  indifferent  eyes  he  gazed  upon  the  silvery 
flood  that  illumined  the  towering  sentinels  of 
the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  and  touched  in  the  far 
obscurity,  with  familiar  greeting,  the  watching 
goddess  in  the  harbor.  Beyond  these,  and  be 
yond  the  limits  of  his  vision,  he  tried  to  peer 
into  the  darkness,  wondering  in  which  direc 
tion  his  tempestuous  parent  had  flown.  And 
he  wondered  if,  in  the  city  below,  there  were 
57 


Gloria  Victis 

many  boys  whose  mothers  had  also  run  away. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  common  thing.  He  hoped 
so.  She  was  not  a  perfect  mother,  but  he 
recalled  the  kind  things  she  had  done  for 
him,  making  a  gallant  effort  to  forget  the  un 
pleasant  ones,  —  to  forget  that  she  had  never 
given  him  the  care  and  attention  that  other 
boys  seemed  to  get  from  their  mothers ;  that  his 
clothes  were  never  mended  unless  the  jani- 
tress  or  a  tailor  saw  to  them ;  and  that  more 
than  once  she  had  punished  him  because  she 
was  angry  with  his  father.  These  things  he 
tried  to  forget,  remembering  only  that  she 
was  his  mother,  and  that  she  was  gone. 

But  it  cut  him  to  the  heart  that  she  should 
give  him  up  so  easily.  "  You  can  have  Steve." 
The  words  were  cruel,  and  he  could  not  help 
repeating  them. 

His  eyes  were  moist  as  he  left  the  window, 
and  they  were  still  moist,  some  minutes  later, 
when,  in  a  buttonless  night-shirt,  he  threw 
himself  upon  his  bed.  The  night  was  warm, 
too  warm  for  sleep,  and  he  felt  like  going  out 
into  the  streets  and  hunting  for  his  father. 

At  one  o'clock  he  was  still  awake,  and  he 
heard  a  key  in  the  door.  Jumping  from 
58 


Gloria   Victis 

bed,  he  ran  out  into  the  parlor  to  welcome 
his  remaining  parent. 

As  Mr.  Wadsworth  entered  the  unlighted 
room,  he  could  barely  distinguish  the  white 
figure  by  the  centre  table.  He  stopped  short 
as  Steve,  in  a  solemn  voice,  announced,  — 

"  Ma 's  gone !  She  's  run  off  with  Wallace." 

It  was  too  dark  to  see  distinctly,  but 
Steve  knew  his  father  was  compressing  his 
lips  and  drawing  a  hand  across  his  mouth. 

"  She  left  a  letter  for  you,  sticking  in  the 
mirror  ; "  and  the  white  sleeve  of  a  night 
shirt  pointed  toward  the  chamber. 

Into  the  next  room  walked  father  and  son, 
the  latter  sitting  upon  the  edge  of  the  bed, 
crossing  and  uncrossing  his  bare  legs  as  he 
watched  his  sire  with  a  sympathetic  gaze,  and 
saw  him  turn  up  the  light,  then  take  the  let 
ter  from  its  place  and  read  it.  Although  he 
knew  this  parent  well,  he  was  surprised  to 
see  him  receive  such  momentous  tidings  with 
no  change  of  expression.  He  merely  drew 
in  his  lips  and  passed  a  hand  across  his  chin, 
—  as  usual  when  there  was  food  for  reflec 
tion, —  and  then  quietly  laid  aside  his  coat 
and  vest  and  loosened  his  collar. 
59 


Gloria  Victis 

Seating  himself  in  a  rocking-chair,  he  ques 
tioned  Steve  for  further  information  ;  but  there 
was  little  to  be  learned.  As  his  glance  en 
countered  a  jewel  box,  overturned  and  empty, 
upon  the  bureau,  he  picked  it  up  and  mut 
tered,  with  a  mirthless  smile  upon  his  lips : 

"  The  poor  things  won't  realize  heavily  on 
their  jewelry." 

Steve  failed  to  comprehend  ;  but  as  the  joke 
on  Wallace  was  evidently  too  good  to  be 
suppressed,  the  father  continued,  — 

"  When  I  gave  your  mother  her  engagement 
ring,  I  was  flush  and  I  laid  myself  out  on  it. 
It  cost  me  two  hundred  dollars.  I  found  ac 
cidentally,  a  year  or  two  after  we  were 
married,  that  she  had  realized  on  the  two- 
hundred-dollar  diamond,  and  substituted  an 
imitation.  But  she  has  never  suspected  that 
I  know  it." 

At  this  point  Steve  came  over  and  stood 
between  his  knees. 

"Well,  as  your  mother  showed  such  a 
preference  for  paste,  I  have  given  her  several 
handsome  specimens  of  it  since.  Every 
Christmas,  New  Year's,  and  on  all  her  birth 
days,  she  has  received  precious  stones  that 
60 


Gloria  Victis 

must  aggregate,  in  her  opinion,  about  three 
thousand  dollars.  And  I  have  made  a  point 
of  examining  them  carefully,  now  and  then, 
in  her  presence,  all  but  the  engagement  ring, 
to  let  her  see  that  if  any  of  them  were 
changed,  I  should  be  sure  to  discover  it." 

Laying  his  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder,  he 
added,  with  an  exultant  twinkle  in  the  super 
latively  honest  eyes, — 

"  If  you  ever  run  away  with  another  man's 
wife,  Steve,  and  are  counting  on  a  nice  little 
fortune,  I  hope  it  won't  pan  out  for  less  than 
thirty  dollars." 

Although  Steve  had  a  poor  opinion  of  Mr. 
Wallace,  his  sympathies  were  too  much  with 
his  mother  to  permit  a  thorough  enjoyment 
of  her  defeat. 

"  But  it 's  hard  on  ma,  ain't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  mean,  is  n't  it." 

"  Is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  is ;  but  if  people  —  " 

A  loud  knock  at  the  outer  door  brought 
Mr.  Wadsworth  to  his  feet  with  a  suddenness 
that  nearly  sent  Stephen  to  the  floor.  In  sur 
prise,  the  boy  looked  up  at  his  father,  and 
saw  that  his  eyes  were  turned  savagely  in  the 
61 


Gloria  Victis 

direction  of  the  sound,  that  his  lips  were 
tightened  and  his  hands  clenched.  Silently 
and  swiftly  Mr.  Wadsworth  slipped  on  his 
vest  and  coat,  then  tiptoed  through  the  par 
lor,  and  listened  near  the  outer  door.  Steve 
followed,  and  they  heard  a  voice,  of  one  man 
speaking  to  another,  in  a  muffled  tone.  As 
silently  as  before,  his  father  stepped  back, 
away  from  the  door,  toward  the  window,  and, 
resting  a  hand  on  each  of  Stephen's  shoulders, 
he  bent  down  and  said  in  a  tone  that  no  one 
else  should  hear, — 

"Steve,  they  have  got  me,  and  you  won't 
see  your  dad  again.  I  must  go  with  them  ; 
there 's  no  help  for  it.  And  all  because  I  am 
a  fool,  —  the  damnedest  of  all  damned  fools ; " 
and  he  straightened  up  with  an  angry  gesture. 

"  But,  dad,"  whispered  Steve,  "  ain't  there 
something  I  can  do  ?  Can't  I  —  "  Here  a 
knock  louder  than  before  was  followed  by  a 
heavy,  impatient  voice. 

"  Open  the  door,  Mr.  Wadsworth.  We 
know  you  are  inside." 

"  Can't  I  get  in  the  way,  or  something  ? " 
Steve  went  on.     "  I  can  do  it,  dad  !     I  can 
do  whatever  you  say  !  " 
62 


Gloria  Victis 

Mr.  Wadsworth  looked  down  at  the  mus 
cular  little  figure  in  its  airy  garment,  and  it 
brought  an  idea.  His  face  brightened. 

"  Could  you  grab  one  of  those  men  by  the 
legs,  as  you  do  your  mother,  and  hold  him 
5ong  enough  for  me  to  manage  the  other 
chap  ? " 

"Yes!     Yes!     Easy!" 

"  If  you  can  do  that,  Stevey,  you  '11  save 
your  father.  Now,  be  sure  and  jump  for  the 
one  I  point  at  —  in  this  way  —  and  go  for 
him  just  when  I  point.  Is  it  understood  ?  " 

"Yes,"  Steve  whispered,  "and  I'll  hang 
till  death." 

His  father  touched  his  lips  to  his  adherent's 
cheek.  "  Go  to  Charley  Myers  every  day, 
—  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  saloon." 

"  Go  to  him  every  day  for  a  week,  until"  — 
here  a  series  of  knocks  heavier  than  the 
others  was  followed  by  threats  of  breaking 
down  the  door  —  "until  you  hear  from  me. 
Now  open  the  door;  and  keep  close  to  the 
man  who  first  comes  in." 

It  was  skilfully  planned ;  but  its  execution 
demanded  presence  of  mind,  some  physical 

63 


Gloria  Victis 

strength,  and  unshrinking  courage.  Mr. 
Wadsworth  had  participated  in  similar  affairs, 
and  could  rely  upon  himself;  but  his  present 
backer  was  as  yet  untried.  However,  as 
Stephen  in  his  snowy  vestment  strode  calmly 
toward  the  resounding  door,  he  gave  promise 
of  these  essentials. 

When  he  opened  the  door,  a  man  of  heavy 
build,  without  waiting  for  any  words,  pushed 
roughly  by  him  into  the  dusky  parlor.  And 
as  he  paused  to  get  his  bearings,  the  ghostly 
figure  that  followed  close  upon  his  heels 
moved  swiftly  to  his  front. 

ujim  Wadsworth,  you  are  my  prisoner." 
Then  the  father,  who  had  purposely  lingered 
in  a  shadowy  corner,  stepped  out  into  the 
room. 

For  answer,  he  raised  an  arm  toward  the 
intruder,  and  with  extended  finger  said 
calmly  in  his  usual  tone,  — 

"  Jump." 

Whereupon  a  swift,  white  movement 
toward  the  officer's  legs  was  followed  by, 
what  seemed  to  the  recipient,  the  locking  of 
iron  clamps  about  his  knees.  At  the  same 
instant  Mr.  Wadsworth  darted  by  him,  out 


Gloria  Victis 

into  the  hall.  The  man,  with  an  oath, 
brought  his  fist  against  the  side  of  Stephen's 
head,  a  heavy  blow.  Then  a  second,  —  and  a 
third. 

Steve  winced,  and  buried  his  face  yet 
deeper  between  the  twisting  legs.  But  he 
tightened  his  grip.  A  revolver,  a  long  and 
heavy  one,  was  snatched  from  a  trouser's 
pocket,  held  aloft  by  the  barrel,  and  brought 
down  with  savage  force  upon  one  of  the  arms 
that  kept  this  much  needed  officer  from  the 
scuffle  in  the  hall. 

There  was  a  cry  of  pain,  involuntary  but  half 
suppressed,  and  the  fingers  of  that  hand  re 
laxed.  The  broken  arm  hung  useless  from 
the  shoulder,  and  the  big  officer  wrenched 
himself  away. 

But  Stephen  was  still  in  the  fight.  He  was 
there  for  victory  or  for  annihilation.  With  a  for 
ward  lurch,  as  the  man  turned  about,  he  threw 
his  good  arm  about  the  nearest  leg,  below  the 
knee,  and  squeezed  it  hard  against  his  head  and 
shoulder.  And  as  he  heard  a  cry  for  aid  from 
his  father's  adversary,  he  gripped  the  trouser 
in  his  teeth,  —  for  he  expected  another  blow, 
and  another  blow  might  break  another  arm. 
5  65 


Gloria  Victis 

But  his  towering  prisoner  also  heard  the  cry, 
and  with  desperate  fury  again  brought  down 
the  heavy  metal  butt,  this  time  regardless  of  re 
sults.  It  landed  on  Stephen's  skull.  The  head 
drooped,  all  the  muscles  of  the  clinging  body 
relaxed,  and  the  man  rushed  out  into  the  hall. 

He  found  his  comrade  stretched  upon  the 
floor,  bleeding  and  senseless.  Leaning  over  the 
baluster,  he  heard,  far  down,  the  squeak  of  slid 
ing  hands  along  the  stair  rail,  and  the  sound  as 
of  some  one  clearing  a  flight  at  a  time,  the  feet 
only  touching  the  steps  at  distant  intervals. 

Straightening  up  and  looking  back  into  the 
unlighted  room,  he  sent  a  curse,  emphatic 
and  comprehensive,  to  the  silent  victor  now 
motionless  upon  the  carpet. 


66 


IV 


YX7ITH  returning  consciousness  Steve 
opened  his  eyes.  He  closed  them, 
however,  in  a  painful  effort  to  recall  his  pre 
vious  existence.  At  present  he  was  lying  upon 
a  bed  in  a  spacious  room,  with  other  beds  on 
either  side  of  him,  and  all  were  occupied. 
A  few  persons  moved  silently  about,  mostly 
women  in  gray,  with  white  caps  and  white 
aprons.  In  his  struggle  to  remember  what 
could  have  happened  to  bring  him  here 
without  his  knowledge,  he  started  to  sit 
up,  and  discovered,  in  so  doing,  that  his 
left  arm  was  encased  in  a  hard,  unwieldy 
substance,  and  that  all  his  muscles  were 
astonishingly  weak. 

One  of  the  women  in  gray  and  white 
approached  his  bedside  and  readjusted  the 
coverlet  about  his  shoulders.  Looking  up 
into  the  face  that  was  bending  over  him,  he 
inquired,  as  returning  memory  revealed  a 
fragment  of  the  past, — 

"  Did  dad  get  away  ?  " 
67 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Don't  think  about  that  now  ;  everything 
is  all  right.  Close  your  eyes  and  go  to  sleep 
again." 

u  Did  dad  get  away  ?  "  he  repeated  in  the 
impatient  tone  of  one  who  is  not  to  be  trifled 
with. 

It  was  a  hard  question  for  a  nurse  who 
knew  nothing  of  her  patient's  antecedents, 
and  she  hesitated. 

"  Did  you  want  him  to  get  away  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did  !  "  and  into  his  feverish 
face  came  a  look  which  said  plainer  than  words, 
"  What  sort  of  a  fool  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 

But  she  answered  gently,  with  a  soothing 
hand  upon  his  shoulder, — 

"  Yes,  he  got  away." 

Her  reward  was  a  smile  of  triumphant  joy, 
accompanied  by  a  sidelong,  somewhat  boast 
ful  movement  of  the  bandaged  head,  convey 
ing  the  impression  that  some  honor  was  due 
in  a  quarter  not  to  be  mentioned,  and  that 
he,  the  wreck,  knew  more  about  it  than  he 
cared  to  tell.  But  this  was  followed  by  a 
more  serious  expression,  as  he  added,  with  a 
contraction  of  the  eyebrows  as  in  painful 
effort  to  unravel  a  mystery,  — 
68 


Gloria  Victis 

"  I  don't  remember  the  last  part  of  it." 

"  There 's  nothing  to  worry  about.  Your 
arm  is  all  nicely  set,  and  your  head  will  soon 
be  as  good  as  ever." 

"  My  head  !     Was  that  hurt  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  in  a  few  days  it  will  be  all 
right  again." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  now ;  "  and  with  a  smile 
upon  his  lips,  he  closed  his  eyes  in  that  glori 
fied  contentment  known  only  to  the  victor 
in  an  up-hill  fight. 

It  was  some  weeks  later  when  he  left  the 
hospital,  in  surprisingly  good  repair  consider 
ing  the  damage  received.  To  his  annoyance 
he  found  himself  an  object  of  sympathy,  as 
his  arm  was  to  remain  in  its  wrapping  a  few 
days  longer,  and  of  course  he  was  paler; 
but  that  only  intensified  the  honesty  of  his 
eyes,  and  added  to  the  general  interest. 

Although  glad  to  be  well  again,  his  return 
to  what  was  formerly  his  home  proved  a 
melancholy  joy.  The  familiar  rooms,  with 
their  bird's-eye  view  over  so  much  that  had 
always  amused  him,  became  now  a  depressing 
reminder  of  his  departed  family.  And  these 
suddenly  vanished  parents  had  made  no  pro- 


Gloria  Victis 

vision  for  his  nourishment.  In  the  way  of 
money  he  had  nothing.  With  his  father's 
relatives  a  comfortable  and  a  permanent  home 
could  be  secured  and  without  the  asking ;  but 
sooner  than  accept  it,  he  would  have  endured 
with  cheerful  spirit  every  possible  tribulation 
of  a  roofless  independence.  Toward  this 
paternal  grandfather,  who  would  gladly  have 
assisted  him,  Stephen,  since  his  earliest  child 
hood,  had  borne  a  violent  prejudice.  And 
this  prejudice  extended  to  every  member  of 
his  grandfather's  household.  The  boy  had 
made  various  visits  to  the  homestead  in  Ver 
mont  before  his  father's  career  became  so 
frankly  criminal  that  the  family  were  com 
pelled  to  close  the  door  against  him. 

This  grandfather  —  a  truthful,  upright  man, 
who  respected  the  law  and  went  to  church 
on  Sunday  —  had  endeavored  to  conduct  his 
family  along  the  pathway  of  a  reasonable 
virtue.  But  for  Stephen  such  an  atmosphere 
had  no  attraction.  That  he,  as  a  boy,  should 
be  punished  for  theft  and  falsehood  when  the 
man  who  punished  him  was  not  the  victim, 
was  an  act  of  officious  tyranny  too  gro 
tesquely  virtuous  for  his  comprehension.  He 
70 


Gloria  Victis 

remained  firm  in  the  belief  that  the  great 
majority  of  mankind  were  like  himself  and 
his  respected  father ;  that  theft  and  falsehood 
were  the  natural  evidences  of  a  higher  in 
telligence.  His  sense  of  justice  being  out 
raged  by  these  repeated  and  severe  rebukes, 
he  not  only  hated,  but  he  sincerely  despised, 
this  miscomprehended  and  —  to  him  —  ab 
normal  grandfather. 

His  mother,  so  far  as  he  knew,  had  never 
possessed  a  relative. 

During  the  first  day  of  his  return  his 
hospital  breakfast  sustained  him,  and  without 
serious  discomfort ;  but  the  next  morning  an 
inward  emptiness  cried  sharply  for  attention. 
When  he  stepped  forth  into  the  street,  his 
stomach  had  become  a  yearning  void.  His 
head,  however,  contained  a  brilliant  scheme. 
He  would  enter  the  restaurant  which  he  and 
his  parents  had  often  visited,  tell  the  waiter 
these  parents  would  soon  be  along,  order  a 
splendid  breakfast,  eat  most  of  it  himself, 
then,  with  an  affecting  display  of  filial  anxiety, 
inform  the  proprietor  of  his  fear  for  their 
safety  and,  he  hoped,  walk  safely  out.  It 
happened,  however,  either  by  chance  or  from 


Gloria  Victis 

a  careless  providence,  that  just  at  the  right 
moment,  in  front  of  a  house  along  his  route, 
a  gouty  gentleman  with  a  round  face  and  gray 
side-whiskers,  emerged  cautiously  from  a 
hansom  ;  and,  while  supporting  himself  upon 
a  cane,  tendered  a  five-dollar  bill  to  the 
driver.  The  driver  shook  his  head,  and  ex 
pressed  regret  at  his  inability  to  change  it. 
The  gentleman,  disappointed  and  somewhat 
annoyed,  and  while  deciding  upon  the  least 
troublesome  course,  was  struck  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  our  hero,  who  happened  to  be 
passing.  More  truthful  eyes  he  had  never 
seen ;  and  these  eyes,  in  combination  with 
a  pale  face  and  one  arm  in  a  sling,  became 
saintlike  in  their  innocence. 

He  stopped  the  boy,  and  as  he  looked  down 
at  shorter  range  into  the  cool  gray  orbs  that 
met  his  own,  he  experienced  a  spiritual  eleva 
tion;  his  whole  moral  nature  expanding,  as 
it  were,  under  their  ennobling  influence. 
Gazing  into  these  translucent  depths,  he  felt 
a  sense  of  shame  at  his  own  impurity ;  and 
when  he  asked  the  owner  of  these  eyes  if  he 
would  run  across  to  the  apothecary  at  the 
next  corner  and  get  the  change  for  the  bill, 


Gloria  Victis 

he  regretted  the  insignificance  of  the  sum, 
wishing  it  a  hundred  dollars  instead  of  five, 
that  he  might  reward  such  exceptional  honesty 
by  a  more  proportionate  confidence. 

"  Yes,  sir,  of  course ;  but  the  surgeon  says 
I  must  n't  run  or  jump  with  this  arm." 

"  Oh,  that 's  all  right ;  only  walk  fast,  and  I 
will  see  that  you  don't  lose  by  it." 

He  turned,  as  the  messenger  departed,  and 
moved  painfully  across  the  sidewalk.  Stephen's 
first  thought  when  he  stepped  out  into  the 
street,  going  diagonally  across  toward  the 
apothecary's,  was  of  the  pleasure  this  money 
could  afford  if  converted  into  food.  His 
second  thought,  so  closely  allied  to  the  first 
as  to  form  a  part  of  it,  consisted  merely  of  a 
quick  resolve  to  elude  the  gouty  gentleman 
and  retain  the  bill.  In  reaching  this  decision 
there  was  no  moral  struggle.  The  good 
angel  who  whispers  to  the  would-be  sinner 
was  not  present  on  this  occasion.  That 
angel  and  this  boy  had  never  met. 

Before  reaching  the  middle   of  the   street 

Steve  had  made  a  rapid  survey  of  the  field  of 

action   and   had   formed  a  plan.     When   he 

stepped  upon  the  curbstone  in  front  of  the 

73 


Gloria  Victis 

druggist's,  he  saw  by  a  backward  glance  that 
the  recent  owner  of  the  bill  was  still  moving 
painfully  across  the  sidewalk,  and  that  the 
driver,  whose  back  was  toward  him,  had  be 
gun  an  absorbing  operation  upon  the  snapper 
of  his  whip. 

With  a  quicker  gait  he  turned  the  corner, 
stopped  for  another  look,  and  then,  being  un 
observed,  he  ran  his  fastest.  His  arm,  he 
knew,  was  safe  unless  he  fell  or  struck  it. 
It  was  a  short  block,  and  he  soon  reached  the 
other  avenue,  where  he  slowed  up,  partly  on 
account  of  his  arm,  which  a  collision  might 
injure,  and  partly  from  the  protection  afforded 
by  the  greater  crowd. 

For  additional  precaution  he  walked  rapidly 
a  block  or  two,  then,  with  an  outward  smile 
and  an  inward  peace,  selected  his  restaurant. 
The  place  he  chose  was  one  of  the  first  he 
came  to,  as  the  emptiness  of  his  interior  had 
become  a  positive  pain.  This  restaurant, 
the  width  of  an  ordinary  house,  contained 
rows  of  tables  on  either  side,  their  ends  against 
the  wall,  each  table  seating  four  persons.  At 
one  of  these  tables  Stephen  seated  himself,  and 
gave  his  order.  The  order  was  unusually 
74 


Gloria  Victis 

comprehensive,  and  the  waiter  smiled  as  he 
received  it. 

"  That 's  a  big  dinner,  bub  ;  sure  you  want 
to  pay  for  all  that  ?  " 

The  guest  took  a  five-dollar  bill  from  his 
pocket  and  unfolded  it  in  an  off-hand  manner. 

"  I  guess  it  won't  cost  more  'n  five  dollars, 
will  it  ?  " 

"  No,  that 's  all  right.  But  yer  dead  sure 
yer  can  git  away  with  all  yer  Ve  ordered  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  more  too.  And  make  it  two 
portions  of  steak." 

"  Which  will  yer  have  first  ?  " 

"  Bring  it  all  at  once ;  "  and  he  said  to  him 
self,  as  the  waiter  departed,  "  It  '11  be  bully  to 
look  at  all  the  rest  of  it  while  I  'm  eating." 

When  the  feast  was  spread  before  him,  he 
gazed  with  intoxicated  senses  upon  the  throng 
of  dishes.  No  sunset  sky  ever  poured  into  a 
painter's  soul  one-half  the  beauty  that  came 
to  the  yearning  Stephen  from  the  contempla 
tion  of  his  steak  and  fried  potatoes ;  from  the 
sausages,  the  omelette,  the  buckwheat  cakes, 
the  oysters,  the  stewed  tomatoes,  the  egg 
plant,  and  the  custard-pie.  He  began  with 
the  custard-pie ;  for  now  that  he  was  his  own 
75 


Gloria  Victis 

master,  why  not  eat  in  the  order  that  pleased 
him  best  ? 

Never  before  had  he  realized  his  full  capa 
city  for  pleasure.  Hunger  and  food,  —  a 
combination  for  the  gods !  And  he  was  tast 
ing  it  in  its  fulness. 

After  the  custard-pie  he  ate  the  fried  oys 
ters;  and  the  hollowness  within  began  to 
yield  to  a  celestial  calm  that  gladdened  the 
remotest  corners  of  his  soul.  He  looked 
about  upon  the  other  diners,  and  his  previous 
hostility  soon  yielded  to  a  friendly  interest. 

When  he  entered  the  restaurant,  there  were 
many  vacant  seats,  and  thus  far  he  had  been 
alone  at  his  little  table ;  but  as  the  last  oysters 
disappeared,  the  two  opposite  chairs  were  oc 
cupied  by  fresh  arrivals,  a  woman  in  black 
and  a  little  girl.  As  the  woman  seated  her 
self  in  front  of  Stephen,  their  glances  met,  and 
the  expression  of  her  face  underwent  a  sudden 
change.  She  seemed  surprised  and  even 
startled.  He  felt  uneasy.  Could  she  be  the 
wife  or  sister  of  the  man  whose  stolen  dollars 
he  was  so  thoroughly  enjoying  ?  And  had 
she  recognized  him  ?  With  a  frown  he 
shifted  his  glance  to  the  little  girl.  In  her 
76 


Gloria  Victis 

face  also,  as  her  eyes  encountered  his,  came 
a  similar  astonishment.  He  read  on  both 
their  faces  what  appeared  an  unwelcome  rec 
ognition.  But  the  child  made  no  effort  to 
conceal  her  surprise,  and  exclaimed  in  an 
audible  whisper,  — 

"Why,  mamma,  his  eyes  are  just  like  Mr. 
Folsom's !  " 

"  Hush,  Filippa  !  " 

But  the  mother's  gaze,  as  if  by  a  fascination 
beyond  her  control,  still  clung  to  Stephen's 
eyes.  Her  own  eyes,  naturally  earnest  and 
somewhat  intense  in  their  expression,  showed 
at  the  present  moment  an  unusual  excitement. 
Leaning  slightly  forward,  and  in  an  obvious 
effort  to  assume  a  friendly  manner,  she  said : 

"  Excuse  me,  but  what  is  your  name  ? " 

The  suspicious  youth,  obeying  an  instinct 
of  self-preservation  which  had  been  abnor 
mally  sharpened  by  his  own  career  and  by  his 
father's  life  and  teachings,  answered,  with  easy 
promptness,  — 

"Henry." 

"  And  your  last  name  ?  " 

"  Simmons." 

She  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  disappointed. 
77 


Gloria  Victis 

The  waiter  took  her  order.  It  consisted  merely 
of  one  portion  of  soup,  and  bread  and  butter. 
But  the  daughter,  whose  appetite  was  not  in 
harmony  with  such  a  meagre  lunch,  laid  a  hand 
on  her  mother's  arm,  and,  looking  up  into  her 
face,  exclaimed  in  beseeching  tones,  — 

"  Oh,  mamma,  have  more  than  that ! 
Have  things  like  those  !  "  and  she  pointed 
with  the  other  hand  to  the  riotous  profusion 
of  their  neighbor's  dishes. 

"  Hush,  darling.  Wait  until  supper  j  then 
you  shall  have  more." 

But  on  the  mother's  face  came  a  look  that 
told  how  painful  the  denial.  The  child  said 
no  more.  Her  eyes,  however,  were  fixed 
upon  the  array  of  steaming  dishes  with  a 
look  that  spoke  plainly  of  an  inward  need. 
The  wide,  cheerful  little  face  had  frequently 
taken  this  expression  since  the  sudden  calam 
ity  which  had  driven  her  mother  and  herself 
to  the  strictest  economies. 

The  little  scene  was  not  lost  upon  Steve, 
and  he  reflected.  His  reflections  were  broken 
by  another  question  from  the  persistent  mother, 
who  inquired  in  a  manner  designed  to  avert 
suspicion,  — 

78 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Does  your  father  look  like  you  ?  " 

But  Steve's  suspicions  were  of  a  character 
not  easily  allayed. 

"  No,  ma'am,  not  at  all." 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  man  is  he  ?  " 

While  the  wary  youth  was  hesitating,  un 
certain  as  to  which  manner  of  lie  would  best 
serve  the  purpose,  a  new  arrival,  just  seating 
himself  at  a  table  behind  his  questioner,  un 
consciously  supplied  him  with  material. 

"  He  's  short  and  fat,  with  a  big,  red  shiny 
face,  fat  lips,  and  a  funny  nose." 

With  this  answer  her  final  hope  departed. 
She  sighed,  and  relinquished  the  attack.  And 
this  answer,  as  far  as  Stephen  could  judge, 
seemed  to  soften  her  heart  and  bring  a 
friendly  feeling,  for  she  inquired  —  and  this 
time  in  a  voice  that  was  honestly  sympathetic 
—  if  he  would  not  like  her  to  cut  his  steak, 
as  he  seemed  helpless,  only  one  of  his  hands 
being  available.  He  thanked  her,  and  grate 
fully  accepted  the  assistance,  while  insisting, 
in  his  turn,  upon  their  partaking  of  the  dish,  — 
an  offer  declined  by  the  parent,  but  accepted 
with  celerity  and  enthusiasm  by  the  eager 
daughter.  And  she  devoured  the  steak  with 
79 


Gloria  Victis 

a  relish  that  brought  a  moisture  to  the 
mother's  eyes.  The  dispenser  of  this  joy 
was  now  experiencing  that  combination  of 
benevolence  and  superiority  so  satisfying  to  the 
liberal  giver.  Pausing  for  a  moment  between 
his  final  sausage  and  the  buckwheat  cakes, 
he  straightened  up  in  his  chair,  and  over  his 
exuberant  breakfast  sent  a  smile  to  the  recip 
ient  of  his  bounty.  She  returned  it  with 
interest,  and  expressed,  by  a  nod,  a  hearty 
appreciation  of  her  blessings.  Of  the  fried 
potatoes  she  also  partook,  at  his  request,  her 
mother  having  ceased  to  object,  as  in  the 
presence  of  such  lavish  abundance  there 
seemed  little  danger  that  the  host  could 
suffer  from  any  reasonable  diminution  of 
his  store. 

Out  of  a  little  black  bag  —  a  sort  of  wallet 
—  that  she  had  previously  laid  upon  the  table, 
the  mother  hurriedly  drew  a  heavy  gold  watch, 
but  after  studying  it  a  moment,  seemed  to 
decide  there  was  no  cause  for  hurry,  and 
replaced  it.  Steve  wondered  why  such  a 
handsome  watch  should  be  without  a  chain. 
There  was  once  a  chain,  however,  and  it  also 
was  of  gold,  but  a  week  before  it  had  been 
80 


Gloria  Victis 

exchanged,  with  other  articles,  for  money  to 
purchase  food. 

Filippa,  who  became  more  and  more 
sociable  under  the  influence  of  a  hearty  meal, 
exclaimed  with  her  customary  enthusiasm, — 

"  I  had  a  gold  ring  just  like  yours  ! " 

Steve  nodded ;  but  as  no  answer  was  re 
quired,  he  continued  with  his  cakes. 

"  But  mine  had  an  inscription  in  it." 

u  So  has  mine,"  he  replied,  bending  for 
ward  as  he  spoke,  and  closing  his  lips  over  a 
rapturous  combination  of  cake  and  syrup. 

"  Really  ?     What  does  yours  say  ?  " 

His  mouth  was  too  crowded  for  an  im 
mediate  answer;  but  Filippa  could  not  wait, 
and  she  continued, — 

"  Mine  had  in  it,  written  along  the  inside, 
'  To  F.  W.  Z.'  Those  are  my  initials,  and 
stand  for  Filippa  Whitehouse  Zabarelli.  And 
then,  after  that,  it  said,  c  God  Bless  the 
Wearer.' " 

For  a  second  the  boy  stopped  eating  and 
regarded  her  with  a  look  of  surprise.  He 
remembered  the  inscription  well,  and  began 
to  wonder  how  his  father  got  it. 

"  Yes,"  said  Filippa ;  and  she  nodded  her 
6  81 


Gloria  Victis 

head,  accepting  his   surprise  as  the   natural 
tribute  to  a  bit  of  exciting  news. 

But  the  wily  youth  knew  his  own  father, 
and  again  drew  on  his  armor.  Turning  his 
eyes  to  the  mother,  he  found  she  also  was 
watching  him,  but  whether  from  a  harmless 
interest  in  the  conversation  or  from  fresh 
doubts  as  to  his  rightful  ownership  of  the 
ring  he  could  not  discover. 

The  girl  repeated  her  question,  — 
"What  does  yours  say  ?  " 
"  Mine   says  '  To  Stephen,'  but   there   is 
nothing  after  that." 
«  Who  is  Stephen  ?  " 

"  Why,  me  of  course.  It  was  given 
to  me." 

Here  the  mother,  in  a  voice  that  bore  un 
mistakable  evidence  of  a  renewed  distrust, 
said  rapidly,  — 

"  But  I  thought  you  told  me  your  name 
was  Henry  ? " 

There  was  a  pause  in  which  the  hearty 
eater  seemed  to  have  forgotten  her  presence. 
He  poured  more  syrup  upon  his  cakes. 

"  You  told  me  your  name  was  Henry," 
she  repeated. 

82 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Well,  a  feller  can  have  two  names.  I 
know  a  boy  that  Js  got  four  !  " 

"Then  your  name  is  Stephen  Henry- 
Simmons  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  And  they  call  you  Henry  ?  " 

"Yes." 

And  he  looked  her  straight  in  the  face  with 
a  smile  which,  in  combination  with  his  eyes, 
was  accustomed  to  disarm  suspicion.  But  in 
this  case  the  combination  was  a  failure.  Mrs. 
Zabarelli  had  found  that  eyes  the  counterpart 
of  these  could  cover  a  heart  too  false  for 
human  safety. 

And  there  was  something  in  the  manner  of 
his  answer  that  put  a  blight  upon  the  good  opin 
ion  she  had  been  laboring  to  establish.  During 
the  remainder  of  the  meal  she  said  no  more  to 
him,  and  he  was  sensitive  to  the  hostile  atmos 
phere.  Filippa,  however,  chattered  on  at  in 
tervals  until  she  had  swallowed  every  morsel 
of  her  steak ;  and  when  they  rose  to  go,  she 
thanked  him,  at  her  mother's  suggestion,  and 
emphasized  her  gratitude  by  a  courtesy. 

This  courtesy,  elaborate  and  un-American 
in  character,  in  which  perhaps  she  had  been 

83 


Gloria  Victis 

drilled  by  her  uncle,  Signer  Guglielmo  Ono- 
fredo  Travaggini  Biffi  Titinnio  Zabarelli, 
was  partially  lost  upon  the  recipient,  who 
sat  low  in  his  chair  and  whose  own  head 
came  not  far  above  his  breakfast.  Filippa's 
face,  which  was  about  on  a  level  with  the 
table  when  she  stood  erect,  disappeared  en 
tirely  from  his  vision  in  the  execution  of  the 
movement.  For  an  instant  he  thought  she  had 
sat  upon  the  floor;  but  as  her  friendly  smile 
came  up  again  to  view,  he  divined  the  motive 
of  the  ceremony  and  nodded  his  acknowledg 
ment.  Her  mother  also  thanked  him  politely, 
but  obviously  from  a  sense  of  duty. 

They  had  gone  but  a  moment  when  Steve 
detected,  beneath  a  corner  of  a  napkin,  the 
wallet  that  contained  the  watch.  His  eyes 
brightened,  and  his  heart  beat  faster  with  a 
fresh  excitement. 

Here  was  a  find  !  The  five  dollars  he  now 
possessed  was  as  nothing  to  it  !  What  lots  of 
dollars  such  a  watch  would  bring  !  Through 
his  head  came  a  swift  procession  of  the  joys 
within  his  grasp.  And  he  must  hurry  up  and 
get  away  before  she  should  miss  it  and  return. 

But,  along  with  this  procession,  came  the 
84 


Gloria  Victis 

memory  of  Filippa,  her  hunger  and  her 
cheerful  little  face.  He  recalled  the  niggardly 
lunch  she  would  have  eaten  if  he,  the  rescuer, 
had  not  been  present.  Steve  frowned  and  bit 
his  lip  at  the  thought  of  inviting  a  girl  to 
breakfast,  securing  her  friendship,  receiving 
her  thanks  and  courtesies,  and  then  "  swiping  " 
the  family  watch. 

No  !  not  that !  He  had  no  ambition  to  be 
good,  but  —  there  were  limits. 

Quickly  he  snatched  the  bag,  and  acting 
upon  an  impulse  of  which  he  was  secretly 
ashamed  and  in  whose  duration  he  had  little 
confidence,  he  ran  out  of  the  restaurant, 
overtook  his  new  acquaintances  on  the  side 
walk,  and  returned  the  property.  Filippa 
greeted  him  with  a  cordial  smile,  while  her 
mother,  with  a  sudden  pallor,  pressed  a  hand 
to  her  heart,  as  she  realized  how  narrow  was 
her  escape  from  an  irretrievable  loss.  Her 
expressions  of  gratitude  were  effusive,  and  she 
was  ashamed  of  the  wrong  she  had  done  him. 
But  he  waited  not  for  thanks,  and  hurried 
back  to  his  unfinished  meal. 

While  mortified  at  having  yielded  to  a 
foolish  impulse,  his  shame  was  tempered  by 
85 


Gloria  Victis 

the  knowledge  that  several  of  his  favorite 
heroes,  men  prominent  in  highway  robbery, 
in  piracy,  and  in  promiscuous  crime,  had 
more  than  once,  where  women  and  children 
were  involved,  been  equally  weak.  And 
there  was  another  consolation :  his  father 
would  never  know  it. 

On  leaving  the  restaurant  he  experienced 
a  satisfying  solidity  in  welcome  contrast  to 
his  recent  emptiness.  He  felt  more  impor 
tant.  He  was  less  suspicious,  and  he  took 
pride  and  pleasure  in  a  brazen  indifference  as 
to  whether  the  former  owner  of  the  bill  might 
discover  him  or  not.  And  Nature  had  been 
so  thorough  in  Steve's  physical  outfit  that  he 
suffered  no  discomfort  from  the  profusion  and 
complexity  of  his  feast. 

But  later  in  the  afternoon  he  encountered 
signs  of  trouble  against  which  his  digestion 
and  his  stolen  money  were  of  no  avail.  A 
sheriff,  with  an  auctioneer,  was  making  a 
list  of  the  various  objects  that  comprised  his 
home;  and  before  they  departed  the  janitor 
showed  the  apartment  to  a  couple  of  women 
who,  as  prospective  tenants,  found  it  exactly 
what  they  needed. 

86 


Gloria  Victis 

Occupying  his  favorite  perch,  the  parlor 
window-seat,  while  the  various  invaders  were 
moving  about  from  one  chamber  to  another, 
he  leaned  out  and  looked  with  mournful  eyes 
over  the  far-reaching  city,  with  its  glittering 
river  on  either  side,  its  unceasing  hum,  its 
countless  chimneys,  its  flags,  its  towers,  and 
its  purple  distance;  all  familiar,  and  all  so 
closely  associated  with  his  vanished  parents 
that  unmanly  tears  obscured  his  vision,  and 
he  drew  a  grimy  knuckle  across  his  eyes.  It 
seemed  now  another  city,  less  his  own  and 
not  so  friendly.  A  city  that  could  swallow 
up  two  parents  in  a  single  night  was  a  thing 
to  be  mistrusted. 

And  far  below  him  he  looked  down  upon 
a  group  of  children  dancing  about  an  organ- 
grinder.  Faintly  he  could  hear  the  music,  a 
plaintive  little  tune,  which  so  intensified  his 
loneliness  that  his  knuckles  were  insufficient, 
and  he  was  compelled  to  draw  a  sleeve  across 
his  cheek. 

On  the  following  day  more  people  in 
spected  the  apartment,  and  the  preparations 
for  an  auction  were  continued.  That  this 
home  was  no  longer  his  he  realized  with  a 
87 


Gloria  Victis 

saddened  spirit,  but  from  those  about  him  he 
took  every  precaution  to  conceal  his  feelings. 

A  woman  who  occupied  a  lower  apartment 
of  the  building  offered  to  adopt  him,  for  the 
present  at  least ;  and  another  acquaintance  of 
his  father,  a  man  with  no  children,  made  a 
similar  offer.  The  janitor's  wife  suggested 
an  institution  for  orphans. 

But  Steve  had  plans  of  his  own.  The 
thought  of  being  adopted  by  a  respectable 
family  and  brought  up  in  a  respectable  way 
was  in  violation  of  every  instinct  of  his  being. 
He  had  read  several  books,  and  his  course  of 
reading,  in  which  he  had  not  been  bothered 
by  his  parents,  consisted  almost  exclusively  of 
stories  of  adventure,  of  the  lives  and  deeds  of 
famous  pugilists,  pirates,  train-robbers,  burglars, 
and  highwaymen  j  and  now,  fired  by  their  ex 
ample,  and  unhampered  by  parental  authority, 
he  would  leave  school  behind  him  and  be  a 
man  at  once.  Like  many  sons,  he  had  made 
a  more  careful  study  of  his  father  than  that 
person  had  suspected.  His  knowledge  of  what 
Mr.  Wadsworth  alluded  to  as  his  u  business  " 
was  of  course  somewhat  undefined,  but  for 
his  father's  character  and  methods,  so  far  as 
88 


Gloria  Victis 

he  could  know  them,  his  admiration  was 
unbounded.  From  association  with  this 
parent  and  from  a  natural  bent,  Steve  had 
developed  some  clear  ideas  upon  humanity, 
and  upon  the  world  at  large.  Without  de 
fining  this  philosophy  himself,  he  classified 
mankind  into  two  divisions,  — 

Those  who  possessed  wit  and  courage. 

Those  who  were  honest. 

That  the  latter  should  be  the  prey  of  their 
more  interesting  brethren  was  a  conclusion 
requiring  no  argument.  For  the  honest  ones, 
the  "  suckers,"  —  he  enjoyed  an  amiable  but 
distinct  contempt,  and  he  had  no  intention 
of  serving  in  their  ranks.  The  police,  of 
course,  were  the  natural  enemies  of  progress. 

In  accordance  with  these  beliefs  he  out 
lined  his  own  career,  and  decided  upon  im 
mediate  action.  As  a  preliminary  detail  he 
communed  with  Davey  Knox.  Davey's 
tastes  and  moral  outfit  bore  a  dull  resem 
blance  to  his  own,  and  they  decided  to  see 
the  world  together.  While  Davey  was  by 
no  means  Steve's  conception  of  a  hero,  he 
was  the  only  boy  available.  Steve  knew  him 
to  be  a  liar  and  a  thief,  both  of  which  were 


Gloria  Victis 

needed  in  the  life  before  them ;  he  also  knew 
him  to  be  a  coward,  and  for  this  he  despised 
him.  But  in  enterprises  where  virtue  is  a 
hindrance,  one  must  not  be  too  punctilious  as 
to  associates. 


90 


HP  HE  glory  of  a  perfect  day  descended  as 
with  a  special  blessing  upon  a  church 
at  Lynstock.  This  sanctuary,  not  a  hundred 
miles  from  New  York,  held  the  centre  of  a 
faultless  lawn,  and  was  of  simple  but  satisfy 
ing  architecture.  The  material  was  of  ham 
mered  stone.  Occupying  the  choicest  site 
in  the  choicest  of  New  England  villages,  it 
sheltered  this  August  Sunday,  —  as  on  other 
Sundays,  —  the  choicest  people. 

Other  sanctuaries,  resorts  of  promiscuous 
outsiders,  were  scattered  along  the  village,  all 
of  wood,  old-fashioned  and  painted  white, 
with  massive  columns  of  a  heathen  pattern ; 
but  those  who  by  especial  purity  had  achieved 
a  closer  friendship  with  the  Lord  were  en 
sconced  in  this  Episcopal  temple.  Not  only 
were  the  worshippers  themselves  of  finer  clay, 
but  all  their  belongings  gave  token  of  a  simi 
lar  excellence.  Even  the  row  of  carriages 
91 


Gloria  Victis 

beneath  the  shadowing  elms  across  the  way 
bore  outward  evidence  of  the  loftiest  aims. 
In  fact,  a  comparison  of  these  blameless  equi 
pages  with  the  cheaper  vehicles  about  the 
other  shrines  offered  convincing  testimony  as 
to  which  religion  was  the  safest  guide. 

Within  this  temple  the  atmosphere  was  yet 
more  decorous.  All  stained  glass,  all  mural 
decorations,  and  other  fittings  were,  like  the 
members  of  the  congregation,  expensively 
quiet  and  in  perfect  taste.  And  the  congre 
gation,  while  comporting  itself  with  the  im- 
pressiveness  of  a  piety  above  reproach,  gave 
evidence  of  that  satisfying  holiness  born  only 
of  solid  opulence  and  correct  attire.  Con 
cerning  the  celestial  prospects  of  those  pres 
ent,  there  was,  if  one  could  judge  by 
appearances,  no  cause  for  alarm. 

The  painted  heads  of  the  twelve  apostles 
above  the  pulpit  bore  a  troubled  air,  as  if 
abashed  by  an  unmerited  patronage.  They 
suspected  perhaps,  this  dozen  common  men, 
the  irony  of  their  present  elevation.  They 
may  have  compared  it  with  their  probable  re 
ception  had  they  presented  themselves  in  the 
flesh  at  the  mansions  of  the  cautious  worship- 
92 


Gloria  Victis 

pers  in  the  pews  below.  The  episcopacy  of 
these  worshippers  was  the  result  of  inheritance 
and  environment.  Another  and  a  different  re 
ligion,  if  indorsed  by  the  proper  persons,  would 
have  been  adopted  with  the  same  complacency 
and  maintained  with  the  same  decision. 

Upon  this  occasion  there  were,  as  usual, 
fewer  men  than  women.  Nearly  every  pew 
was  occupied,  for  the  clergyman  was  a 
preacher  of  distinction.  He  was  a  man  about 
fifty  years  of  age,  large  of  frame,  with  a  mas 
sive  head  and  somewhat  heavy  features.  In 
his  hair,  carelessly  arranged  and  obviously 
with  little  heed  from  its  owner,  were  shades 
of  gray.  His  skin,  partly  from  exposure,  was 
brown  and  rather  dark;  his  eyes  were  also 
brown,  and  with  their  heavy  lids  and  straight 
eyebrows  high  above,  gave  an  impression  of 
repose  and  strength.  A  certain  awkwardness 
of  figure  seemed  intensified  by  the  shortness  of 
neck  and  by  a  roundness  about  the  shoulders. 

He  had  been  speaking  in  a  general  way  of 
the  duties  of  life  and  of  the  obligations  of 
wealth,  and  he  expressed  himself  with  a  clear 
ness  and  decision  that  drove  languor  from  the 
eyelids  of  every  Croesus  in  the  church.  If 
93 


Gloria  Victis 

there  previously  existed,  in  the  minds  of  the 
present  congregation,  any  doubt  or  mystery 
as  to  why  the  average  millionaire,  although 
envied  for  his  wealth,  was  not  an  object  of 
affection  among  the  poor,  he  now  removed 
it.  His  language  was  not  ambiguous.  His 
voice,  rich,  full,  and  finely  modulated,  held 
the  attention  of  every  person  in  the  building. 

And  the  building  had  seldom  been  so 
crowded.  For  Dr.  Thorne  was  not  only  a 
preacher  of  singular  eloquence,  but  his  life  and 
character  had  given  him  an  exceptional  posi 
tion.  Although  a  native  of  the  town,  and  the 
personal  friend  of  many  in  the  congregation, 
he  seldom  occupied  this  pulpit.  His  own  pas 
torate,  one  of  the  richest  and  most  influential 
in  New  York,  he  had  resigned  the  previous 
winter,  in  the  belief  that  he  could  be  of  greater 
usefulness  in  other  and  quite  different  fields. 

But  this  calling  to  account  of  millionaires 
was  incidental.  It  served,  however,  even  if 
its  effects  were  temporary,  to  arouse  the  at 
tention  and  disturb  the  peace  of  certain  mem 
bers  of  the  congregation.  For  Dr.  Thorne 
knew  his  fellow-men,  and  he  knew  too  well 
that  threats  of  future  brimstone  or  guarantee 
94 


Gloria  Victis 

of  heavenly  recompense  would  never  startle 
Midas. 

As  the  sermon  proceeded,  it  became  evi 
dent,  from  the  silence  throughout  the  church 
and  from  the  vigilance  of  his  listeners,  that 
something  of  more  than  ordinary  interest  was 
before  them.  The  older  men  were  surprised, 
and  followed  him  with  straining  ears  to  be 
sure  they  heard  aright.  The  younger  men 
received  his  words  in  a  similar  spirit,  but  with 
faces  reflecting  the  earnestness  and,  at  times, 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  speaker.  But  every 
woman,  old  or  young,  took  in  his  words 
with  eager  interest  and  with  brightening  eyes. 
And  this  surprise  and  interest  were  augmented 
by  the  knowledge  that  Dr.  Thorne  was  not  a 
person  of  careless  impulse  or  unconsidered 
speech,  but  a  man  of  large  experience  and 
of  sober  judgment. 

The  remarks  which  were  causing  this  un 
wonted  consideration  related  to  the  advent  of 
our  Saviour.  After  asserting,  not  as  a  theo 
logical  deduction  but  as  an  authenticated  fact, 
that  Christ  had  appeared  upon  the  earth  at 
various  epochs  since  the  Crucifixion,  he  went 
on  to  explain  why  such  appearances  were  in 
95 


Gloria  Victis 

perfect  harmony  with  His  life  and  precepts, 
and,  if  thoughtfully  considered,  need  cause  no 
surprise.  All  who  believed  in  the  immor 
tality  of  the  soul  believed  that  Christ,  though 
crucified,  would  ever  remain  a  living  entity. 
And  if  this  be  true,  he  argued,  it  certainly  is 
not  in  accordance  with  our  conception  of  His 
character  that  during  these  centuries  of  hu 
man  doubt  and  human  suffering  He,  whose 
mission  it  was  to  console  and  guide,  should 
remain  an  indifferent  observer. 

u  His  life  and  teachings,"  he  continued, 
"  were  not  those  of  one  who  holds  himself 
aloof,  in  frigid  state,  ignoring  the  prayers,  the 
hopes,  the  lives  and  deaths  of  countless  mil 
lions  of  his  followers.  Moreover,  if  sent 
among  us  by  a  benevolent  Creator  upon  so 
stupendous  a  duty  as  the  redemption  of  man 
kind,  such  a  duty,  if  begun  in  earnest,  would 
never  be  abandoned  after  one  brief  experi 
ment,  and  at  a  time  when  three-quarters  of 
the  earth  was  yet  unpeopled.  Were  the 
future  millions  yet  unborn  to  rely,  during 
twenty  centuries  at  least,  upon  translations 
from  an  unspoken  language,  for  a  word  from 
their  Redeemer  ? " 

96 


Gloria  Victis 

He  continued  in  calm  but  impressive  tones  : 
"  If  Christ's  spoken  words,  if  His  personality 
or  His  living  presence,  are  needful  to  those 
wavering  in  their  allegiance,  if  a  sign  will 
save  them,  —  is  that  sign  to  be  withheld  ?  If 
we  may  believe  His  own  words,  He  consid 
ered  faith  of  first  importance.  If  we  honestly 
believe  in  His  previous  coming,  why  doubt 
the  coming  of  to-day  ?  " 

Thus  far  the  listeners  throughout  the 
church  had  followed  him  with  attentive  in 
terest.  This  interest  became  keener  and 
more  alert  when  Dr.  Thorne,  with  the  calm 
conviction  of  one  who  knows  whereof  he 
speaks,  declared  that  Christ  had  revisited  this 
earth  not  once,  but  many  times,  —  in  our  own 
day,  and  here,  in  our  own  land,  —  not  in  spirit 
only,  but  bodily,  as  a  fellow-man  ;  that  He  had 
cheered  the  despairing,  encouraged  the  weak, 
and  given  life  and  hope  to  those  whose  bur 
dens  were  greater  than  their  strength. 

And  there  swept  through  the  congregation 
a  fresh  emotion,  as  they  received  the  state 
ment  that  the  speaker  himself,  if  at  liberty  to 
do  so,  could  produce  a  witness,  a  personal  friend 
of  many  now  before  him,  who  had  been  this 
7  97 


Gloria  Victis 

very  year  in  the  presence  of  our  Lord. 
Moreover,  this  Presence  was  no  illusion,  nor 
the  dream  of  a  man  in  sickness  who  mistook 
for  realities  the  products  of  his  own  imagina 
tion.  He  had  felt  the  touch  of  a  soothing 
hand,  and  received  words  from  living  lips 
that  turned  the  current  of  his  life. 

This  announcement  was  received  in  solemn 
silence.  Not  the  rustle  of  a  gown  or  the  move 
ment  of  a  fan  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the 
church.  But,  as  Dr.  Thorne  knew  well, 
there  were  many  who  would  deny  his  testi 
mony  and  deride  his  faith.  Among  these  was 
a  gentleman  of  sixty  or  thereabouts,  with 
blooming  face  and  serene  expression,  whose 
speculative  eyes  and  whose  whiskers,  snowy 
but  alert,  gave  hints  of  what  he  was,  —  a  per 
son  of  importance.  Leisurely  he  turned  his 
head  and  looked  across  the  aisle.  Meeting  the 
glance  of  another  financial  triumph,  not  unlike 
himself  in  expression,  in  raiment,  and  in  years, 
he  slowly  raised  his  eyebrows,  —  the  fraction 
of  an  inch, —  and  in  so  doing  conveyed  dis 
tinctly,  as  in  words,  his  opinion  of  the  parson. 

But  Dr.  Thorne,  in  that  respect,  was  under 
no  illusion.  He  was  not  making  this  effort 


Gloria  Victis 

with  any  hope  of  penetrating  the  heart  of 
capital.  Too  well  he  knew  and  understood 
the  impregnable  golden  armor  of  certain  mem 
bers  in  this  congregation.  There  were  others, 
however,  who  by  recent  affliction,  by  trials 
beyond  their  force,  or  by  a  hopeless  sorrow, 
had  come  nearer  the  portals  of  that  other 
world;  and  to  these,  by  look,  by  meaning, 
and  by  brotherly  compassion,  he  spoke,  and 
not  in  vain. 

The  sermon,  calmly  and  impressively  de 
livered,  proceeded  to  the  end,  and  notwith 
standing  its  purport  brought  conviction  to 
certain  of  its  hearers.  For  to  these  there 
was  evidence  of  something  more  than  theory 
coming  thus  from  one  of  large  experience, 
whose  truth  and  honor  were  above  reproach. 

After  the  service  certain  friends  and  ac 
quaintances  remained,  —  some  to  congratulate 
him  upon  his  sermon,  others  to  ask  a  ques 
tion  or  to  express  their  regret  at  the  rarity  of 
his  visits.  Most  of  them  were  women,  rep 
resenting  various  degrees  of  enthusiasm  or  of 
religious  fervor,  or  of  curiosity  and  friendly 
interest;  but  all,  even  those  who  fluttered 
and  gushed  with  a  graceful  excitement,  were 
99 


Gloria  Victis 

self-possessed  and  faultless  in  attire.  One 
or  two  were  patronizing,  not  with  intent,  but 
from  force  of  habit. 

Dr.  Thorne  received  this  shower  of  words 
with  outward  gratitude  and  with  his  usual 
composure.  This  composure  bore  a  faint 
resemblance  to  that  patience  with  which  a 
Saint  Bernard  allows  kittens  to  scramble  over 
his  back.  They  may  tickle  or  annoy,  but  he 
takes  them  for  what  they  are.  As  to  inquiries 
concerning  the  subject  of  his  sermon,  he 
turned  them  aside  politely,  but  with  decision, 
replying,  in  answer  to  the  most  frequent 
question,  that  the  person  referred  to  wished 
no  publicity. 

There  was  another  gentleman  present  who 
also  received  attention,  and  from  its  quality 
he  appeared  a  person  of  distinction.  More 
over,  he  bore  himself  as  one  accustomed  to 
receive  this  sort  of  tribute.  While  more  im 
pressive  in  his  manner  than  Dr.  Thorne,  it 
was  evident,  nevertheless,  that  these  atten 
tions  caused  him  far  more  pleasure  than  an 
noyance.  But  this  pleasure  was  suitably 
repressed,  and  even  stately.  No  human 
being  would  have  presumed  upon  it. 
100 


Gloria  Victis 

He  was  a  bishop,  not  only  by  terrestrial 
appointment,  but,  obviously,  by  design  of  his 
Creator.  He  had  the  manner  and  expres 
sion,  the  mouth  and  voice,  the  bearing,  the 
head  and  legs,  and  the  cheerful  gravity  of  a 
bishop.  No  attribute  was  wanting.  He  was 
of  suitable  height,  erect,  bald-headed,  well  nour 
ished,  and  impressive.  His  features  were  regu 
lar,  and  his  honesty  unquestioned.  He  was 
intellectual,  considerate,  and  always  gracious. 

Bishop  Thorne,  although  at  present  on  his 
summer  visit  from  his  diocese  in  a  neigh 
boring  State,  was  a  native  of  Lynstock  and 
cousin  of  the  doctor.  They  had  played 
together  as  boys,  and  knew  each  other  well. 

When  the  last  lingerer  had  departed,  leav 
ing  these  two  alone,  standing  together  near 
the  pulpit,  the  bishop  congratulated  his  cousin 
upon  the  effect  his  eloquence  had  produced. 

u  That 's  a  splendid  sermon,  Will,  and  it 
makes  one  regret  more  than  ever  your  de 
sertion  of  the  pulpit." 

"  It  was  a  false  position." 

u  So  you  have  said  before,  but  you  are  too 
punctilious.  Your  point  of  view  is  from  too 
dizzy  an  altitude.  Give  your  conscience  a 
101 


Gloria  Victis 

vacation  and  forget  the  creed.     Our  duty  is 
to  the  greatest  number,  not  to  ourselves." 

Dr.  Thorne  turned  his  eyes  with  a  side 
long  look  toward  the  bishop,  and  asked,  — 

"  So  you  think  it  becoming  in  a  follower 
of  Christ  to  occupy  a  pulpit  whose  creed  he 
outwardly  accepts  and  inwardly  denies  ? " 

The  bishop  turned  partly  away,  and  studied 
the  heads  of  the  apostles. 

"  Your  case  is  exceptional." 

"  But  my  life,  nevertheless,  would  be  a 
living  lie." 

"  It  would  be  a  most  charitable  lie  and  of 
infinite  value." 

Dr.  Thorne  regarded  his  companion  with 
a  friendly  frown. 

"  Since  when  have  you  become  a  follower 
of  Ignatius  ? " 

"  Not  at  all,  but  our  endeavor  should  be 
for  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number." 
Here  the  bishop  looked  about  and  lowered 
his  voice.  u  If  all  of  us  who  denied  the  creed 
should  desert  the  church,  where  would  our 
followers  be  ?  " 

"  Where   they  ought  to  be,  —  among  the 
followers  of  a  simpler  faith." 
102 


Gloria  Victis 

They  moved  toward  the  door,  and  the 
bishop  reiterated  his  argument. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  You  are  the  victim  of 
an  abnormal  conscience.  Your  arguments 
fail  to  justify  your  course.  Such  eloquence 
as  yours  should  not  be  wasted.  It  was  not 
given  you  to  be  buried.  If  you  take  our 
Saviour  as  your  model  —  and  I  know  you  do 
—  you  should  remember  that  in  giving  His 
life  to  mankind  He  was  influenced  by  no 
details  of  creed." 

Dr.  Thorne  stopped  and  confronted  his 
cousin. 

u  Do  you  think,"  he  answered,  slightly 
raising  his  chin,  and  regarding  the  bishop 
with  a  lowering  of  the  heavy  eyelids  which 
failed,  however,  to  cover  a  gleam  of  irony 
beneath  — "  do  you  think  that  if  our  Sav 
iour  were  alive  to-day  He  would  give  His 
time  and  energy  to  a  select  and  fashionable 
congregation  of  high-church  Episcopalians  ?  " 

Thoughtfully  the  bishop  lowered  his  head, 
then  answered,  — 

"  No." 

Along  the  village  street  they  walked,  Dr. 
Thorne  with  a  lunging  gait,  his  head  bent 
103 


Gloria  Victis 

forward  and  the  heavy  shoulders  swinging  as 
if  ploughing  through  a  crowd.  The  bishop, 
dignified,  erect,  immaculate,  and  evangelical, 
avoided  instinctively  all  inequalities  of  the 
path,  and  stubbed  his  toes  against  no  obstacles 
in  the  way. 

At  the  gate  before  a  large,  old-fashioned 
residence  they  parted,  Dr.  Thorne  continu 
ing  on  his  way,  out  into  the  open  country 
beyond  the  village. 

The  road  took  a  wandering  course  be 
tween  fields  and  pastures,  with  patches  of 
wood  at  intervals,  where  the  shade,  on  a  day 
like  this,  gave  a  welcome  refuge.  Heavily 
but  rapidly  the  pedestrian  trudged  along,  and 
the  town  was  soon  a  mile  behind  him.  To 
his  right  were  straggling  woods  and  rocky 
pastures  with  the  Berkshire  hills  beyond. 

But  on  his  left  the  fields  and  smoother  pas 
tures  sloped  gently  to  a  wooded  valley,  where 
the  eye  could  follow,  along  the  tree-tops,  the 
meanderings  of  a  water-course.  Across  this 
valley,  up  the  long  sweep  of  open  country, 
there  came  to-day  a  refreshing  breeze. 

Our  traveller  halted  by  the  way  to  gather 
clover  blossoms  j  and  it  was  evident,  by  the 
104 


Gloria  Victis 

dexterity  with  which  he  bound  them  by  a 
blade  of  grass,  that  his  huge  fingers  were  no 
strangers  to  the  task. 

His  thoughts,  as  he  gave  the  finishing 
touches  to  this  simple  offering,  went  back 
ward  nearly  thirty  years  to  a  period  in  which 
a  woman  was  the  central  figure  of  his  life, 
—  a  slender  woman,  light-haired  and  frail, 
with  laughing  lips,  who  loved  this  fragrance ; 
and  who,  as  they  walked  together,  would 
stop,  and,  standing  still  with  eyes  half  closed, 
inhale  the  clover-laden  air  and  repeat  for  the 
hundredth  time,  "  How  I  love  it !  " 

And  he,  when  returning  from  a  walk, 
always  presented  her  with  specimens  of  this 
plant. 

Their  married  life  was  short,  six  years  or 
less  ;  and  now,  with  the  clover  to  his  lips,  the 
cool  breeze  against  his  cheeks,  he  lived  again 
the  vanished  years. 

With  a  deep  breath  he  looked  up  at  the 
sky,  then  over  at  the  distant  hills,  and,  turning 
back  into  the  road,  he  renewed  his  march. 

Farther  on,  where  a  wood  path  joined  the 
highway,  lay  a  curious  little  graveyard  of  the 
type  familiar  to  New  England.  Raised  above 
105 


Gloria  Victis 

the  road  by  a  wall  that  served  as  a  terrace,  it 
was  partly  hidden  by  a  row  of  hemlocks. 
Toward  the  entrance,  along  the  wood  path, 
the  doctor  turned  mechanically,  as  one  famil 
iar  with  the  way.  Ascending  some  granite 
steps,  rough  hewn  and  forced  asunder  by  a 
century  of  frosts,  where  weeds  and  wild- 
flowers  in  rank  luxuriance  filled  the  gaping 
joints,  he  paused  a  moment  in  the  shadow  of 
two  weather-beaten  hemlocks  that  stood,  like 
forgotten  sentinels,  on  a  thankless  duty.  He 
pushed  his  hat  from  his  brow,  and  the  soft 
breeze  from  the  valley  beat  gently  against  his 
face  as  he  regarded,  with  friendly  interest,  two 
scolding  squirrels  in  the  branches  above  who 
appeared  annoyed  at  this  intrusion. 

The  quaint,  uncared-for  little  cemetery 
covered  less  than  an  acre.  Youthful  pines 
and  birches  sprouted  here  and  there  among 
the  graves ;  birds  sang  and  fluttered  in  the 
sunlight,  perching  upon  the  mossy  headstones 
as  if  no  saddening  thoughts  held  precedence 
in  that  garden.  Toward  the  centre,  winding 
among  the  graves  and  headstones,  ran  a  nar 
row  path.  The  feet  that  made  this  path  were 
Dr.  Thome's. 

1 06 


Gloria  Victis 

Again  he  trod  it  to  its  termination  beside 
a  grave,  not  unlike  the  others,  but  whose 
headstone  was  less  ancient  than  its  neigh 
bors.  Here,  a  broken-hearted  man,  he  had 
laid  his  wife,  more  than  twenty  years  ago. 

Slowly,  and  with  his  usual  clumsiness,  he 
lowered  his  bulky  form  and  knelt  beside  the 
mound.  Two  yellow  butterflies,  resplendent 
in  the  summer  sun,  reeled  carelessly  away  as 
he  removed  a  bunch  of  withered  clover  from 
the  grave  and  replaced  it  with  the  fresher  one 
of  to-day.  With  some  precision  he  arranged 
his  offering,  and  then,  with  downcast  face  and 
dreaming  eyes  recalled  distinctly  as  if  yester 
day  —  for  these  memories,  from  frequent  in 
vitation,  came  willingly,  as  familiar  friends 
—  the  last  time  he  saw  her  face  and  heard 
her  voice.  He  had  alighted  from  the  buggy 
at  the  little  station  at  Lynstock,  and  as  he 
reached  forward  for  his  valise,  she  laid  her 
hand  on  his  and  whispered,  with  tearful 
eyes,  but  with  a  smile  half  jesting,  half  sad, 
"  When  you  open  this  bag  to-night,  I  shall 
be  inside." 

And  when,  at  a  distant  city,  he  unfolded  a 
certain  garment  for  the  night,  he  found  in  a 
107 


Gloria  Victis 

button-hole  of  the  bosom  a  bunch  of  clover. 
As  he  stood  smiling,  the  welcome  messengers 
to  his  lips,  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door 
and  he  received  the  telegram  which  told  him 
the  hands  that  plucked  the  flowers  were  for 
ever  still. 

These  scenes,  and  others  similar,  he  had 
lived  so  many  times  that  his  wife,  beside 
whose  grave  he  knelt,  had  ever  remained 
not  only  an  unfading  memory,  but  a  living 
influence.  Recollections  which  once  had 
crushed  him  with  an  unbearable  regret  had 
now  become  a  pleasure,  —  a  saddening  pleas 
ure,  perhaps,  but  soothing  5  and  a  pleasure 
of  which  he  never  tired. 

From  this  journey  into  the  past  he  was 
suddenly  recalled  by  a  voice,  sharp  and  im 
perious,  close  beside  him. 

"  Throw  up  your  hands  !  " 

Startled,  and  still  upon  his  knees,  he  turned 
partially  around,  and  confronted,  within  a  yard 
of  his  face,  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver.  Behind 
this  weapon,  at  arm's  length,  stood  a  boy 
whose  appearance  presented  so  much  that 
was  contradictory  that  the  kneeling  victim, 
in  the  novelty  of  the  situation,  forgot  his 
108 


Gloria  Victis 

danger.  The  robber,  not  a  dozen  years  of 
age,  stood  firmly  upon  his  straddling  legs, 
with  obvious  intent  to  convey  a  terrifying 
impression  of  ruthlessness  and  ferocity. 

But  there  was  something  in  his  face,  par 
ticularly  about  the  eyes,  so  uniquely  honest  and 
so  out  of  harmony  with  the  belt  of  cartridges, 
the  rakish  hat  with  its  upturned  brim,  and  the 
pitiless  contraction  of  the  eyebrows,  that  Dr. 
Thorne  forgot  to  raise  his  arms.  Instead,  he 
gazed  calmly  into  the  virtuous  eyes  that  from 
behind  the  pistol  as  calmly  met  his  own. 

"  Throw  up  your  hands !  "  came  again 
from  the  boyish  lips  and  in  a  boyish  voice ; 
and  Dr.  Thorne,  with  a  touch  of  alarm,  ob 
served  that  the  revolver  was  cocked,  with  a 
bullet  in  every  chamber.  But  instead  of 
throwing  up  his  hands,  he  climbed  slowly  to 
his  feet,  and,  as  he  did  so,  he  noticed  another 
boy  in  the  background,  off  nearer  the  entrance 
to  the  enclosure.  This  second  boy,  as  their 
eyes  met,  edged  back  toward  the  steps  in  a 
manner  that  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  sudden 
ness  of  his  disappearance  in  case  of  danger. 
As  the  preacher  glanced  down  again  at  the 
more  courageous  desperado  who  stood  defi- 
109 


Gloria  Victis 

antly  before  him,  he  acted  swiftly  upon  a  stra 
tegic  idea  as  it  came  into  his  head.  Looking 
off  toward  the  retreating  comrade,  he  said,  — 

"  Your  friend  is  deserting  you." 

As  the  boy  instinctively  turned  his  head  to 
verify  the  evil  tidings,  Dr.  Thome,  with  one 
step  forward,  knocked  the  pistol  from  his 
hand.  The  blow  discharged  it,  and  the  sharp 
report  seemed  a  profanation  of  the  silent  acre. 
He  heard,  within  a  foot  of  his  ear,  the 
whistle  of  the  bullet.  Before  the  boy  could 
recover  himself  he  was  seized  by  the  arm  and 
shoulder. 

"  So  it  was  really  loaded,  you  rascal !  " 
and  he  gave  the  figure  in  his  grasp  a  violent 
shake.  He  was  surprised,  in  the  boy's 
struggle  to  free  himself,  at  the  strength  and 
energy  of  his  youthful  captive.  But  no  strug 
gling  could  avail  in  such  a  grip,  and  the 
would-be  robber  after  one  or  two  efforts  stood 
quiet  —  but  unresigned. 

"  Don't  you  know  better  than  to  handle 
loaded  weapons  in  that  way  ?  It 's  a  wonder 
you  did  n't  kill  me." 

There  was  no  reply. 

u  Do  you  want  to  be  hanged  for  murder  ?  " 
no 


Gloria  Victis 

After  a  moment's  reflection,  as  if  the 
question  required  a  cautious  answer,  the  boy 
replied,  with  enough  bravado  to  show  the 
enemy  he  was  still  unterrified,  — 

"  No,  sir,  not  right  off." 

The  doctor  turned  him  about,  and  looked 
down  into  his  face.  As  he  met  the  cool, 
gray,  truthful  eyes,  he  felt  convinced  that  he 
was  the  victim  of  a  childish  folly. 

Off  in  the  highway,  as  fast  as  his  legs 
could  take  him,  he  noticed  the  reserve  guard 
travelling  feverishly  to  the  westward.  He 
could  not  resist  a  smile. 

"  Your  friend  knows  where  he  is  safe,  and 
he  means  to  get  there.  You  would  better  fol 
low  his  example  if  you  ever  have  the  chance." 

The  prisoner  also  looked  in  that  direction, 
then  muttered  with  a  measureless  contempt : 
"  Ho  !  Davey  always  was  a  coward !  He 
oughter  been  a  girl !  " 

The  doctor  for  an  instant  thought  of  re 
senting  this  slur  upon  the  other  sex,  but 
instead,  he  offered  terms  to  the  enemy. 

"  If  I  let  you  go  will  you  promise  to  be 
have  better,  and  not  play  with  loaded  pistols 
in  the  future  ?  " 

1 1 1 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Yes,  I  promise." 

"  You  give  me  your  word  of  honor  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

As  he  released  his  grip  and  took  a  back 
ward  step,  the  boy  sprang  toward  the  pistol, 
snatched  it  from  the  grass,  cocked  it,  and 
levelled  it  again  toward  the  figure  before  him. 

u  Now,  who 's  ahead  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  This  time  you  throw  up  your  hands,  or  I  '11 
fire  it !  " 

But  the  hands  were  not  thrown  up.  The 
massive  head  drooped  slowly  forward,  and 
two  calm,  brown  eyes  rested  mournfully 
upon  the  speaker.  Reproachfully  and  with 
out  anger  he  looked  into  the  triumphant 
face. 

u  So  your  promise  goes  for  nothing  !  You 
should  have  been  a  sneak  thief  or  a  pick 
pocket  ;  not  an  open  robber.  I  have  always 
understood  that  famous  robbers  had  some 
self-respect,  some  regard  for  their  word  of 
honor." 

Over  the  villain's   face  came   a  flush  of 

color.     Shame  and  indignation  took  the  place 

of  triumph,  and  the  eyes   wavered.     There 

was  an  inward  struggle,  as  easily  read  by  the 

112 


Gloria  Victis 

man  before  him  as  from  an  open  book. 
Lowering  the  revolver,  he  turned  it  about, 
holding  the  muzzle  toward  himself,  then 
stepped  forward  and  presented  it  to  his  tower 
ing  victor.  In  an  uneven  voice,  and  with  a 
strong  effort  to  repress  the  quivering  of  a  lip, 
he  mumbled  hurriedly,  — 

"  I  'm  not  a  sneak  thief !  Take  it  yourself ! 
I  don't  want  it !  " 

Dr.  Thome  took  the  weapon,  carefully 
pointed  it  in  another  direction  as  he  lowered 
the  trigger,  then  returned  it  to  the  owner, 
saying,— 

"  As  we  both  are  men  of  honor,  it  does  n't 
matter  who  keeps  the  pistol." 

Five  minutes  later  they  were  sitting  in  the 
shade  of  the  two  hemlocks,  each  upon  one 
of  the  low  granite  blocks  at  the  entrance  of 
the  cemetery.  Here  it  was  cooler,  and  Dr. 
Thome  laid  his  hat  beside  him,  and  drew  his 
handkerchief  across  his  brow ;  for  there  had 
been  a  certain  excitement  in  the  recent 
episode,  and  the  heat,  out  there  in  the  sun, 
was  penetrating.  As  the  boy  sat  opposite,  his 
feet  just  clearing  the  ground,  the  clergyman 
suspected,  from  the  soiled  collar  and  wrist- 
8  113 


Gloria  Victis 

bands,  the  long  red  stockings  worn  through  at 
the  knees,  and  the  shoes  which  appeared  first 
to  have  received  a  soaking,  then  to  have  trav 
elled  many  miles  over  a  dusty  road,  that  his  vis 
a-vis  had  found  that  wealth  and  luxury  were 
not  infallible  accompaniments  to  a  robber's  life. 

"  Do  your  parents  live  in  Lynstock  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.     I  don't  know  where  that  is." 

u  Why,  this  is  Lynstock.  You  are  in  it 
now." 

The  boy  nodded  carelessly,  accepting  the 
statement,  but  taking  no  interest  in  the  village 
or  in  its  name. 

"  Where  do  they  live,  your  parents  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  don't  know  where  your  parents 
live  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.  They  both  cleared  out,  and  I  don't 
know  where."  His  eyes  rested  calmly  upon 
the  questioner,  yet  with  a  certain  watchfulness. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

The  youth  hesitated,  but  decided  this  time 
to  tell  the  truth. 

"Stephen  Wadsworth." 

"  And  your  home  ?  When  did  you  come 
from  home  ? " 

114 


Gloria  Victis 

"  I  came  from  New  York,  me  and  Davey 
together,  but  the  home  was  rented  to  some 
body  else." 

As  he  spoke,  he  broke  off  a  stem  of  milk 
weed,  and  appeared  surprised  at  the  white 
liquid  within,  and  at  its  stickiness.  His 
friend  noticed  it. 

"  You  have  not  lived  in  the  country  much." 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Where  did  you  sleep  last  night  ?  " 

"  In  the  porch  of  a  house,  off  there ;  "  and 
he  pointed  over  the  valley  to  the  west  of  the 
village.  "And  the  night  before  that  we 
slept  in  a  swell  stable.  Climbed  through  the 
winder,  and  had  bully  beds  on  the  carriage 
cushions.  We  hooked  a  ride  on  a  freight 
train  to  that  place;  and  if  the  brakeman  had  n't 
spotted  us,  we  M  have  gone  a  lot  further." 

"Your  friend  is  still  going  farther,  and 
in  a  hurry." 

"  Oh,  he  's  no  use !  He  went  back  on 
me  yesterday,  and  he  would  again.  I  sha'n't 
go  after  him  much.  He  's  wanted  to  back 
out  and  go  home  ever  since  we  started. 
Now  he  can  do  it.  He  ain't  no  use  —  he  is 


Gloria  Victis 

This  correction  of  faulty  grammar  led  the 
preacher  to  believe  that  the  stranger  had 
quitted  a  more  refined  and  educated  home 
than  was  indicated  by  his  present  calling. 

"  Perhaps  your  father  is  a  professional 
man." 

"  I  guess  he  is." 

"  A  clergyman." 

cc  Not  much  !  "  was  retorted  emphatically, 
as  one  resents  an  injustice.  "  He  's  an  all- 
around  sport." 

"  What  does  he  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  exactly.  I  never  saw  him 
do  it." 

The  questioner  inferred  from  the  manner  of 
this  reply  that  it  was  intentionally  ambiguous. 

"  Tell  me  why  you  boys  selected  Lynstock 
for  a  visit." 

"  Oh,  just  the  same  as  the  other  places,  — 
to  hold  folks  up,  and  so  forth." 

u  Then  you  are  a  professional  robber  ?  '* 

«  Yes,  sir." 

Dr.  Thome's  face  expressed  neither  sur 
prise  nor  disapproval.     His  glance  wandered 
calmly   away  among    the  gravestones,   as   if 
professional  robbers  were  his  daily  associates, 
116 


Gloria  Victis 

the  companions  of  his  choice.  When  he 
looked  again  into  the  eyes  which  by  their 
exceeding  goodness  persistently  gave  the  lie 
to  the  noxious  sentiments  of  their  owner,  he 
smiled  pleasantly,  and  said,  — 

"  When  you  have  had  more  experience  in 
this  particular  field  of  crime,  you  will  select 
your  victims  with  sounder  judgment.  The 
idea  of  waylaying  a  preacher  on  his  way  from 
church !  They  never  have  money.  You 
might  as  well  c  hold  up  '  one  of  the  oxen  in 
the  pasture." 

"  You  've  got  a  watch." 

"True.  But  you  would  not  rob  a  peace 
able,  hard-working  minister  of  his  only 
treasure." 

The  highwayman  for  an  instant  showed  a 
slight  embarrassment,  but,  quickly  recovering 
himself,  he  answered  with  studied  indifference, 
as  he  tossed  a  pebble  down  the  granite  steps  : 

"  Of  course  I  would  !   Business  is  business." 

Dr.  Thorne  was  too  experienced  to  risk  a 
moral  discourse  at  this  stage  of  an  acquaint 
ance.  After  a  moment's  silence  he  asked  : 

"  Have  you  been  to  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  back  in  that  other  town." 
117 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Was  it  a  good  one  ?  " 

The  traveller  kicked  his  heels  indifferently 
against  the  granite  block,  and  inserted  a  spear 
of  grass  between  his  lips  before  he  answered  : 

"  Good  enough." 

"  Do  you  mind  telling  me  what  you  had  ?  " 

"  Some  apples." 

"  Apples  !  They  must  have  been  green 
ones." 

«  Sort  of." 

The  doctor  took  out  his  watch. 

u  My  dinner  is  all  ready  and  waiting  for 
me.  Won't  you  come  and  share  it  ?  I 
should  like  very  much  to  have  you." 

As  he  spoke,  he  felt  the  gaze  of  the  rob 
ber  fixed  intently  upon  him  as  if  suspecting 
treachery. 

cc  I  guess  not.     I  must  be  goin'." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  Off  there,"  pointing  to  the  east.  "  To 
the  wild  west,  where  the  fun  is  ;  "  and  he  slid 
from  his  seat  and  stood  up. 

The  clergyman  also  arose  and  put  on  his 
hat. 

"  I  will  make  a  bargain  with  you.  If  you 
come  home  with  me  and  spend  the  night,  I 
III 


Gloria  Victis 

will  have  your  shirt  washed  and  give  you  a 
new  pair  of  stockings." 

The  boy  looked  suspiciously  into  his  face, 
then  lowered  his  eyes  and  bestowed  careful 
attention  to  a  hole  he  was  digging  in  the  turf 
with  the  toe  of  his  boot.  During  the  pause 
one  of  the  squirrels  in  the  branches  above 
uttered  a  final  protest,  then  retired  to  the 
inner  apartments  of  his  home. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  ?  " 

The  traveller  seemed  embarrassed.  With 
a  sidelong  look  he  asked,  — 

"  Where  do  you  come  in  ?  " 

"  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  doing  my 
share  toward  establishing  a  pleasant  friend 
ship.  It  seems  to  me  that  a  solid  friendship 
after  so  unpromising  an  introduction  is  a 
thing  to  celebrate." 

The  highwayman  returned  the  smile  with 
which  this  was  spoken,  but  his  doubts  were 
not  allayed. 

"  You  will  hold  on  to  me  and  not  let  me 

go-" 

u  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  you  shall 

leave  whenever  you  wish.     I  am  telling  you 

the  truth.     I  like  you  and  wish  to  know  you 

119 


Gloria  Victis 

better.  Of  course,  as  a  clergyman,  I  cannot 
indorse  the  profession  you  have  chosen,  but 
I  like  your  spirit ;  and  —  as  far  as  I  can 
judge  —  I  like  your  character.  Come.  Let 
us  go  home  and  celebrate ;  "  and  he  held  out 
his  hand. 

Stephen  looked  up  for  a  second  into  the 
heavy,  benevolent  face,  then  stepped  forward 
and  laid  his  grimy  hand  upon  the  extended 
palm. 

"All  right." 

Five  big,  fat  fingers  closed  about  it  with  a 
hearty  grasp,  the  grasp  of  that  unwavering 
friendship  that  loves  us  for  our  virtues  and 
forgives  our  faults. 


120 


VI 

A  CROSS  the  fields,  a  shorter  cut  than  by 
the  highway,  Dr.  Thorne  returned  to 
the  village,  gleaning,  as  he  went,  bits  of  per 
sonal  history  from  his  new  acquaintance; 
and  the  more  he  learned  of  his  antecedents, 
the  less  he  marvelled  at  results. 

As  they  emerged  upon  the  main  avenue 
from  a  neighbor's  yard,  Steve  was  awed  by 
the  prevailing  silence.  To  this  New  Yorker 
who  had  rarely  escaped  from  the  noise  and 
bustle  of  his  native  city,  the  wide,  empty 
street  with  its  overhanging  trees,  and  the 
houses,  cheerful  and  prosperous  but  with  no 
outward  signs  of  human  life,  all  gave  the  im 
pression  of  a  deserted  settlement ;  of  some 
thing  mortuary  and  forgotten. 

Stopping  before  a  low  old-fashioned  gate, 
painted  white,  like  the  fence  on  either  side, 
Dr.  Thorne  held  it  open  for  his  guest  to 
enter.  Stephen  found  himself  on  a  gravel 

121 


Gloria  Victis 

walk,  at  the  other  end  of  which,  some  twenty 
yards  away,  stood  a  long,  low  house,  also 
white  but  nearly  covered  with  vines. 

Along  the  borders  of  this  walk  were  strips  of 
box,  nearly  up  to  his  waist ;  dark,  impenetrable 
and  fragrant.  And  behind  these  little  hedges, 
in  wild,  disorderly  profusion,  flashed  a  sea  of 
flowers,  of  all  the  colors  in  the  universe,  now 
dazzling  beneath  the  summer  sun.  They 
were  very  tall,  some  higher  than  his  head. 
Hollyhocks  and  roses,  pink  peonies  and  lark 
spur,  sweet  peas,  nasturtiums,  foxglove  and 
poppies,  smiled  —  or  rather  laughed  —  all 
huddled  together,  an  orgy  of  blinding  color. 

Bees  buzzed,  some  drunk  and  others  sober; 
while  casual  humming-birds,  in  the  abandon 
ment  of  frivolity,  reeled  gleefully  from  flower 
to  flower. 

Steve  blinked,  and  instinctively  took  a  long, 
deep  breath  of  an  intoxicant  the  like  of  which 
had  never  figured  in  his  dreams ;  for  no  such 
odors  could  have  survived  a  journey  to  the 
Wadsworth  flat.  Rich,  overladen  with  per 
fumes,  —  mignonette  in  the  ascendant,  —  it 
stole  into  his  brain  and  seemed  to  lift  him 
up.  To  be  sure,  he  was  bad,  too  bad  for 
122 


Gloria  Victis 

honest  boys  to  play  with,  but  his  imagination 
was  young  and  active,  and  this  flood  that 
poured  into  his  soul,  a  flood  of  gentleness 
and  delight,  —  what  was  it  ? 

Could  this  be  fairy  land  ? 

Every  sense  seemed  tingling  into  a  new 
existence.  With  a  touch  he  could  have 
floated  to  the  clouds.  He  forgot  his  body 
and  his  legs,  his  pistol,  his  empty  stomach, 
and  the  joys  of  crime. 

But  this  transformation  was  only  tempo 
rary.  With  his  host  by  his  side  he  trod  the 
gravel  walk  toward  the  house,  and  when  half 
way  there,  from  among  the  flowers  close  be 
side  the  path,  arose  the  head  and  shoulders 
of  a  radiant  woman.  Her  hair  was  golden, 
and  the  sunshine  seemed  to  form  a  halo  round 
about  it.  She  wore  a  dress  of  white,  and  in 
her  hands  were  pinks.  Steve  halted  again. 

This  must  be  the  fairy  of  the  garden  ! 

So  light  and  dainty  was  this  figure,  among 
the  many  colors,  that  had  Stephen  been  a  man 
he  would  have  strode  in  and  plucked  her  with 
the  other  flowers.  To  him  it  was  a  novel 
type,  the  delicate,  sensitive  face  with  the  large 
brown  eyes,  at  once  cheerful  and  sad,  and  the 
123 


Gloria  Victis 

mouth  ever  ready  to  smile,  yet  with  signs  of 
trouble  about  the  corners. 

"  Why,  papa !  You  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself !  You  are  awfully  late  for  dinner !  " 

And  as  she  stepped  out  upon  the  walk 
through  an  opening  in  the  box,  she  saw  the 
boy  and  nodded  a  smiling  welcome. 

"  This  is  a  guest  I  have  brought  to  visit 
you,  Bessie ;  a  friend  of  mine  who  will  dine 
with  us." 

She  said  pleasant  things  with  a  pleasant  smile, 
and  made  him  feel  at  home ;  and  as  she  ad 
justed  a  pink  in  the  buttonhole  of  his  jacket, 
Stephen  experienced  yet  another  sensation, 
more  novel  and  overpowering  than  the  other. 

He  fell  in  love. 

It  was  sudden,  but  no  passion  was  ever 
more  complete  j  that  is,  of  course,  no  love 
of  boy  for  a  woman  twice  his  age.  He  was 
eleven  and  she  was  twenty-six,  but  to  every 
boy  this  is  liable  to  occur ;  and  with  Stephen 
it  was  an  overwhelming  sensation.  He  drank 
her  in  with  bashful  eyes.  Her  gentle  face 
and  voice  and  manner  were  to  him  a  reve 
lation.  And  he  saw,  without  defining  it,  an 
expression  about  her  eyes  and  mouth  that 
124 


Gloria  Victis 

suggested  sorrow,  with  a  brave  resolve  to 
appear  more  cheerful  than  she  felt. 

The  only  woman  with  whom  Stephen  thus 
far  had  been  on  terms  of  intimacy  was  his 
mother,  and  between  the  two  there  was  little 
resemblance.  This  lady's  hair  was  a  quieter 
yellow ;  not  selected  by  herself,  but  fully  as 
effective  :  there  was  no  paint  upon  her  cheeks, 
nor  artificial  emphasis  about  the  eyes.  Her 
raiment  also  was  less  conspicuous.  His 
mother,  taller  and  more  majestic,  could  easily 
have  vanquished  this  person  in  a  struggle,  but 
by  this  he  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  pre 
judiced.  He  realized,  instinctively,  that  the 
virtues  of  his  inamorata  were  virtues  of 
another  nature,  and  to  be  judged  from  a 
different  stand  point. 

She  led  him  upstairs  to  an  orderly  chamber, 
—  unlike  his  own,  —  supervised  the  washing 
of  his  face  and  hands,  and  scolded  him  with 
an  affectionate  smile  for  having  his  hair  too 
short  to  brush.  It  was  a  fighting  cut,  and 
showed  every  contour  of  his  head.  And 
during  all  he  was  dumb,  like  a  fool,  giving  the 
briefest  answers  to  her  friendly  questions.  He 
felt  a  pleasant  thrill  whenever  her  fingers 
125 


Gloria  Victis 

touched  him,  and  yearned  for  an  opportunity 
to  show  her  what  he  really  was,  —  to  rescue 
her  from  some  frightful  danger.  If  a  hun 
dred  redskins  would  only  pounce  into  the 
room  to  scalp  and  kill  her,  that  he,  with  her 
trembling  form  in  his  arms,  might  lay  them 
low  in  quick  succession,  he  would  have 
been  supremely  happy.  To  win  her  admira 
tion  was  his  chief  desire.  But  at  present  he 
saw  no  prospect  of  achieving  it.  These  times 
of  peace,  for  men  of  action,  were  far  from 
satisfying. 

This  house  of  Dr.  Thome's  was  built  in 
the  preceding  century  by  an  ancestor  of  Revo 
lutionary  fame.  The  dining-room,  long  and 
narrow,  with  all  its  windows  at  the  end,  had, 
like  the  rest  of  the  house,  a  low  ceiling. 
When  Stephen  entered,  under  Bessie's  guid 
ance,  the  outer  blinds  were  closed,  and  the 
light  at  first  seemed  dim  and  insufficient ;  but 
he  saw  Dr.  Thorne  at  one  end  of  the  table, 
back  to  the  windows.  At  the  other  end  sat 
an  elderly  woman,  stout  and  in  a  light  dress. 
She  took  his  hand  and  held  it  in  her  own  for 
a  moment,  while  she  said,  in  a  low  but  decided 
voice,  rapidly  and  with  a  pleasant  smile,  — 
126 


Gloria  Victis 

"  So  you  are  Mr.  Wadsworth.  Well,  you 
are  a  good  boy  ;  I  can  see  that.  And  you 
look  as  if  the  wind  would  n't  blow  you  over. 
Gracious !  what  truthful  eyes  !  Why,  it 's 
better  than  going  to  Sunday-school  just 
to  look  into  them.  Sit  down  there,  in  that 
place  —  next  to  Dr.  Thorne,  and  eat  a  good 
dinner." 

Stephen  looked  into  her  own  eyes  as  she 
spoke,  and  saw  they  were  small,  black,  and  very 
sharp.  The  flesh  at  the  corners  was  drawn 
up  in  little  wrinkles  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
render  it  uncertain  whether  she  was  simply 
smiling  or  perusing  your  own  thoughts.  Her 
face  seemed  pale,  but  not  with  the  pallor  of 
disease,  for  Aunt  Lorinda,  now  in  her  seventy- 
sixth  year,  had  always  enjoyed  the  very  best 
of  health,  and  thus  far  there  were  no  indica 
tions  of  a  change.  She  appeared  about  fifty. 
As  to  bodily  vigor  and  mental  energy,  she  was 
still  in  her  youth. 

Stephen  sat  in  the  chair  indicated,  and, 
being  bountifully  helped  by  his  host,  pro 
ceeded  to  manifest  his  appreciation  of  the 
food  with  the  celerity  and  disregard  of  con 
sequences  peculiar  to  shipwrecked  mariners 
127 


Gloria  Victis 

and  to  growing  boys.  There  was  conversa 
tion  while  he  ate ;  but  he  took  little  interest, 
only  speaking  when  questioned.  And  the 
answers  were  brief. 

While  waiting  for  the  dessert,  he  noticed  a 
vacant  chair  opposite  his  own,  and  he  won 
dered  who  was  to  sit  in  it.  He  also  took  long 
breaths  of  the  perfumes  wafted  through  the 
house  from  the  old  garden  in  front. 

Glad  he  was  that  he  had  come.  He  looked 
furtively  once  or  twice  at  the  heavenly  being 
beside  him,  and  his  love  grew  stronger  with 
each  glance.  Perhaps  these  people  would 
let  him  remain  here  always.  He  would  do 
heroic  things,  and  she  would  be  sure  to  like 
him  ! 

Aunt  Lorinda  he  also  watched,  and  with 
increasing  interest.  Her  manner  was  that  of 
a  very  young  person,  —  not  affected,  but  wide 
awake  and  amusing.  In  conversation  she 
seemed  courageous  and  emphatic,  and  there 
was  never  a  doubt  of  her  meaning.  Her 
remarks  must  have  been  funny,  for  both  Dr. 
Thorne  and  Bessie  often  laughed  at  what  she 
said.  Although  a  little  afraid  of  her  at  first, 
he  soon  began  to  like  her. 
128 


Gloria  Victis 

After  helping  to  the  dessert  —  the  richest 
and  most  satisfying  blueberry-pudding  the 
guest  had  ever  tasted  —  she  leaned  back  and 
said, — 

"  That  was  a  splendid  sermon  this  morn 
ing,  William.  It  made  an  impression,  but  of 
course  there  are  many  who  can't  believe  it." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Dr.  Thorne.  "  I  ex 
pect  that.  It  is  a  hard  thing  to  believe  — 
without  preparation." 

"And  while  I  can't  quite  believe  it  my 
self,"  said  Aunt  Lorinda,  "  it  irritates  me  to 
have  others  doubt  it.  This  morning  in  the 
vestibule,  coming  out,  Peter  Upham  was  just 
behind  me,  and  —  " 

"  Peter  Upham  ?  "  inquired  Bessie,  "  that 
horrid  Peter  Upham,  —  Jennie's  father,  with 
the  funny  eyes  ?  " 

"Yes,  and  the  eyes  are  still  his.  Two 
little  oysters,  each  with  a  green  pea  in  the 
middle.  And  a  mouth  like  a  bullfrog's  —  only 
bigger  and  looser.  His  voice,  when  he 
lowers  it,  is  like  a  storm  at  sea.  You  know 
his  kind  of  piety,  —  that  damns  all  who  differ. 
I  am  sure  he  patronizes  the  Almighty  when 
they  are  alone  together.  Well,  this  morning, 
9  129 


Gloria  Victis 

coming  out,  he  was  just  behind  me.  I  heard 
him  say  in  his  lowest  voice,  —  a  voice  that 
shook  the  windows  and  bent  the  elms  beyond 
the  Common :  c  A  most  eloquent  sermon, 
but  although  of  a  religious  nature  myself,  I 
am  constrained  to  say  that  somebody  has 
been  stuffing  Dr.  Thorne.'  Well,  at  first  I 
thought  of  jamming  my  parasol  into  his 
mouth  and  opening  it,  but  it 's  a  new  parasol. 
He  saw  me  just  as  he  finished,  and  began  a 
rigmarole  of  pompous  explanations." 

Dr.  Thorne  looked  troubled  and  shook  his 
head. 

"  Peter  is  sensitive,  and  I  hope  you 
did  n't  make  it  unpleasant  for  him." 

Aunt  Lorinda,  with  more  wrinkles  about 
her  eyes,  replied,  — 

"  No,  not  particularly.  I  only  told  him  he 
was  not  the  first  Peter  who  had  gone  back  on 
the  Lord." 

Dr.  Thorne  frowned  sadly  as  upon  a  way 
ward  child  with  whom  argument  is  wasted. 

A  few  moments  later  a  step  was  heard  in  the 
hall,  and  Bessie  rose  from  the  table,  saying : 

«  There 's  Alfred." 

Then  Stephen  heard  her  speaking  to  the 
130 


Gloria  Victis 

new-comer   as   together   they    ascended   the 
stairs. 

"  Good  !  "  said  Aunt  Lorinda.  "  Now, 
dear  little  Alfred  can  have  his  boots  taken  off, 
and  be  dressed  for  dinner." 

"  Is  Alfred  a  little  boy  ?  "  Steve  inquired. 

u  Yes,  and  always  will  be;"  but  Dr.  Thorne 
gave  her  a  warning  look.  "  No,  that  was 
partly  in  joke.  Alfred  is  Captain  Chauncey, 
Mrs.  Chauncey's  husband." 

"  Mrs.  Chauncey  ?  " 
*  "  Yes,  she  just  left.     We  call  her  Bessie." 

So  Bessie  was  married  !  Steve  shrunk 
beneath  the  blow.  For  a  moment  his  appe 
tite  forsook  him.  But  then,  to  lovers  under 
twelve,  such  announcements  are  less  destruc 
tive  than  at  maturer  periods.  To  be  near 
her  for  the  present,  with  liberty  to  adore,  was 
sufficient  to  feed  the  fires  of  his  unexacting 
love.  Although  the  shock  was  cruel,  he 
quickly  recovered,  and  with  no  abatement  of 
devotion. 

u  Is  Captain  Chauncey  a  real  soldier  ?  "  he 
inquired. 

"  Bless  you,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Lo 
rinda.  u  He  gave  that  up  when  he  was 


Gloria  Victis 

married,  and  became  a  professional  husband. 
He  superintends  his  wife.  He's  a  success 
ful  invalid  now.  You  don't  know  what  it  is 
to  be  that  kind  of  an  invalid  ?  " 

Steve  shook  his  head.  She  screwed  up 
her  eyes  and  looked  sharply  at  him  from  the 
corners. 

"  I  should  say  that  he  had  the  same  line  of 
diseases  that  you  have." 

"  But  I  am  never  sick  !  " 
*  "  That 's  bis  trouble,  and    it  unfits  him  for 
work." 

Steve  did  not  quite  understand;  but  it 
mattered  little,  as  Aunt  Lorinda  was  con 
versing  for  her  own  delectation.  Dr. 
Thorne  threw  a  warning  glance  which  she 
carefully  avoided. 

"  Think  how  awful  it  is  for  an  able-bod 
ied  man  in  the  prime  of  life  to  realize  that 
consumption,  fits,  fatigue,  old  age,  or  some 
other  fatal  disease  may  strike  him  at  any  mo 
ment  !  And  yet  he  fights  bravely  on.  He 
is  a  fisherman.  He  has  been  fishing  this 
morning,  —  Sunday." 

"  Does  he  go  on  the  ocean  ?  "  asked  Steve. 

"  Oh,  dear    no  !     He   is    not  that    foolish 
132 


Gloria  Victis 

sort  of  a  fisherman.  No  wet  feet  and  empty 
stomachs  for  him !  He  sits  on  the  bank 
and  bobs  a  line.  But  he  never  catches  any 
thing.  That  would  be  cruel,  would  n't  it  ? 
—  and  laborious." 

"Be  careful,  Aunt  Lorinda;"  and  Dr. 
Thorne  turned  the  lady's  conversation  into 
other  fields. 

Although  the  finer  shades  of  Aunt  Lo- 
rinda's  contempt  were  lost  upon  Stephen, 
he  guessed  that  she  had  a  poor  opinion 
of  Bessie's  husband.  It  was  some  hours 
later  that  he  first  met  this  gentleman. 

Coming  down  to  supper,  he  found  Dr. 
Thorne,  Aunt  Lorinda,  and  Bessie  beneath 
the  vine-covered  porch.  Upon  the  seat  beside 
Bessie,  his  legs  crossed  and  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  sat  the  successful  invalid ;  and  Steve 
was  pleased  with  his  appearance.  Captain 
Chauncey's  age  was  mysterious,  but  he  gave 
the  impression  —  as  was  his  intent  —  of  a 
man  of  thirty-five  or  forty.  But  Aunt 
Lorinda  and  Dr.  Thorne  knew  him  to  be 
twenty-four  years  older  than  his  wife,  and  his 
wife  was  twenty-six.  His  youthful  mus 
tache,  from  which  the  few  gray  hairs  had 
133 


Gloria  Victis 

been  carefully  extracted,  turned  pleasantly 
upwards  at  the  extremities.  In  his  face 
were  no  lines  of  care.  The  nose,  chin,  and 
forehead  made  an  excellent  profile.  His  eye 
glasses  seemed  of  more  importance  than  the 
eyes  behind,  which  were  neither  large,  small, 
light,  dark,  attractive,  nor  repellent.  These 
glasses  necessitated  a  slight  but  perpetual 
elevation  of  the  chin  when  regarding  others. 

Upon  closer  acquaintance  it  was  usually 
discovered  that  Captain  Chauncey's  mouth 
was  peculiar.  The  under  lip  projected  slightly, 
with  no  curve  beneath ;  that  is,  his  profile 
from  mouth  to  chin  was  a  straight,  uncom 
promising  line.  The  mouth,  as  a  whole, 
while  suggesting  certain  uncomfortable  vari 
eties  of  decision,  was  less  disquieting  in 
repose  than  when  its  owner  smiled.  For 
when  Captain  Chauncey  smiled,  and  with 
enjoyment,  it  was  either  from  triumph 
or  from  contempt.  The  mouth  seemed 
to  open  at  the  corners  on  these  occa 
sions,  yet  with  no  display  of  hilarity. 

But    he  had    a    good    figure,  was    always 
well   dressed,    and,    when    necessary,    polite 
and  even  entertaining. 
114 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Alfred,  this  is  Mr.  Stephen  Wadsworth," 
said  Bessie.  "  He  has  come  to  make  us  a 
visit." 

With  mock  ceremoniousness  Captain 
Chauncey  shook  his  hand. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Wads- 
worth  .  You  are  from  New  York,  I  believe  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Are  you  a  student  of  phrenology,  Mr. 
Wadsworth  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  That 's  lucky,  for  if  you  were,  the  con 
tour  of  your  own  skull  might  cause  you  some 
uneasiness." 

"Why,  Alfred,"  said  Bessie,  "what  do 
you  mean  ?  Stephen  has  quite  a  handsome 
head." 

"  Yes,  very  likely,"  replied  Captain  Chaun 
cey,  passing  his  hand  over  Stephen's  close- 
cropped  hair,  "  but  it  depends  altogether  on 
the  point  of  view.  Gladiatorially  it  is  a  per 
fect  head.  Phrenologically,  a  man  with  a 
head  like  that  is  either  a  thief  or  a  murderer. 
Just  run  your  eye  over  the  portraits  of  dis 
tinguished  criminals  and  you  will  find  they 
are  endowed  with  similar  craniums." 
'35 


Gloria  Victis 

He  patted  Stephen  on  the  shoulder,  as  he 
said  in  what  was  intended  for  a  playful 
manner,  — 

"  You  don't  mind  my  uttering  these  harm 
less  prophecies,  Stephen  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  don't  mind." 

Dr.  Thorne,  remembering  his  own  nar 
row  escape  in  the  cemetery,  looked  sharply 
at  the  boy ;  but  he  saw  that  Captain 
Chauncey's  remarks  were  taken  simply  as 
a  joke. 

"  You  should  n't  talk  that  way,  even  in 
fun,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Well,"  said  her  husband,  sinking  back 
into  his  former  position,  u  we  will  play  it 's 
a  joke." 

The  person  whose  good  opinion  was  more 
precious  than  all  others  upon  earth  was,  of 
course,  the  woman  he  loved ;  and  when 
Stephen  found  her  eyes  fixed  amiably  upon 
him,  he  became  indifferent  to  all  extraneous 
comments. 

"You  must  certainly  take  a  thorough 
course  in  phrenology,"  said  Aunt  Lorinda. 
"  Don't  neglect  a  faculty  that  enables  you 
not  only  to  decide  offhand  on  the  character 

136 


Gloria  Victis 

of  every  one  you  meet,  but  to  foretell  their 
future.  Experience  is  nothing  to  it." 

Captain  Chauncey  ignored  this  remark. 
Five  years  ago,  on  his  last  visit  to  America, 
he  had  ventured,  in  the  presence  of  others,  a 
few  sarcastic  remarks  with  intent  to  ridicule 
Aunt  Lorinda.  At  that  period  he  knew  her 
but  slightly,  and  had  hoped  by  one  crushing, 
almost  insulting  speech,  reflecting  upon  her 
age,  her  dependent  position,  and  her  want 
of  tact,  to  silence  her  forever,  at  least  as 
regarded  himself.  But  Aunt  Lorinda  in  her 
sweetest  manner  had  retorted  with  a  calmness 
and  skill  that  had  stretched  her  adversary 
upon  the  field  of  battle.  In  her  response, 
courteously  worded,  she  had  informed  him  — 
and  the  others  present  —  that  a  scheming, 
impecunious,  middle-aged  man,  who  mar 
ried  an  inexperienced  girl  for  her  money  and 
wrecked  her  happiness  by  his  own  brutality 
and  selfishness,  was  not  entitled  to  the  respect 
of  decent  people. 

Never  since  that  day  had  he  crossed  swords 
with  Aunt  Lorinda.  And  that  interview  had 
been,  with  him,  a  sufficient  excuse  for  depriv 
ing  Bessie  of  all  intercourse  with  her  family. 
137 


Gloria  Victis 

He  preferred  Vienna  to  New  York,  and  this 
present  trip  to  Lynstock  was  the  first  time 
in  five  years  that  he  had  allowed  his  wife  to 
revisit  her  home.  Now,  a  man  of  leisure, 
having  resigned  from  the  army  soon  after  his 
marriage,  he  devoted  his  intellect  and  energy 
to  the  nursing  of  a  perfect  constitution.  And 
for  this  career  the  earth  could  not  have  fur 
nished  a  more  useful  consort  than  Bessie 
Thorne.  Affectionate,  self-sacrificing,  and 
abnormally  conscientious,  she  became  a  will 
ing  slave.  Her  sense  of  duty  and  allegiance 
to  the  man  she  had  married  prevented  the 
admission,  even  to  herself,  that  her  idol  was 
of  the  poorest  clay,  and  that  all  dreams  of 
happiness  were  forever  gone.  Her  husband, 
not  being  a  fool,  was  aware  that  Dr.  Thorne 
despised  him.  Of  Aunt  Lorinda's  contempt 
there  had  never  been  concealment. 

That  his  wife,  who  knew  him  best  of  all, 
could,  with  her  lofty  ideals,  respect  his  char 
acter,  was  too  incredible  even  for  Captain 
Chauncey's  vanity  ;  and  this  knowledge  in 
itself  was  an  irritation.  Of  this  irritation, 
his  wife,  being  ever  present,  was  the  most 
convenient  victim.  Although  she  made  no 
138 


Gloria  Victis 

confession  of  matrimonial  sorrows,  these  two 
friends  knew  better  than  herself  why  she  had 
grown  ten  years  older  in  half  that  number  of 
years,  and  why  the  gayety  and  love  of  fun 
which  seemed  a  part  of  her  nature  had  all 
departed. 


139 


VII 

A  S  the  days  went  by,  it  was  discovered  with 
surprise  and  pain  that  certain  traits  of 
character  possessed  by  the  new  arrival  were 
at  variance  with  the  moral  standard  of  the 
Thornes.  Truth  and  Stephen,  it  appeared, 
took  little  pleasure  in  each  other's  company. 
He  looked  down  upon  this  clear-eyed  goddess 
as  a  feeble  substitute  for  intelligence.  Of 
course  there  are  times  when  Truth  is  harm 
less  and  the  easiest  thing,  and  at  these  times 
she  and  Stephen  worked  together;  but  in 
matters  of  business  her  co-operation  was  un 
sought. 

And  what  brought  despair  to  the  members 
of  this  honest  household  was  the  freedom 
from  shame  with  which  Stephen,  when  de 
tected  in  a  lie,  looked  them  pleasantly  in  the 
eyes,  as  if  falsehood  were  the  natural  course ; 
he  being  convinced,  all  protestations  to  the 
contrary,  that  theirs  would  be  a  similar 
course  under  similar  conditions.  And  a 
yet  sadder  blow  for  these  upright  people, 
140 


.     Gloria  Victis 

whose  strength  and  purity  of  character  were 
models  for  all  who  knew  them,  was  the 
gradual  realization  that  this  member  of  their 
household  held  independent  views  upon  the 
rights  of  ownership.  In  acquiring  the  prop 
erty  of  others  without  their  knowledge  he 
displayed  a  facility  and  courage  that  both 
dazzled  and  appalled  his  friends.  And  this 
accomplishment,  instead  of  injuring  his  repu 
tation  with  certain  of  his  pals,  proved  a 
source  of  popularity,  as  all  bananas,  dates,  or 
other  luxuries  obtained  from  the  store  with 
out  the  formality  of  payment  he  always 
shared  freely  with  his  comrades.  If  rebuked 
at  home,  it  became  obvious,  from  his  amiable 
but  shameless  arguments,  that,  although  out 
wardly  convinced,  he  recognized  no  sin  in 
appropriating  what  others  did  not  require. 

These  propensities,  rare  in  Lynstock,  and 
practically  unknown  beneath  the  rooftree  of 
the  Thornes,  created  hostile  comment  in  the 
village  and  embarrassment  among  his  friends. 
But  Dr.  Thorne,  when  reformatory  institu 
tions  were  suggested  by  the  neighbors,  still 
clung  to  Stephen.  He  always  insisted  upon  a 
further  trial.  In  fact  personal  friends  of  the 
141 


Gloria  Victis 

offender,  as  a  rule,  were  inclined  to  leniency- 
This  was  easily  explained  by  the  possession 
on  Stephen's  part  of  certain  qualities  that 
even  his  victims  could  not  help  respecting. 
His  fidelity  to  his  friends,  his  manliness,  his 
self-reliance,  and  extraordinary  courage ;  his 
cheerfulness,  his  love  of  fair  play  and  unhesi 
tating  sacrifice  of  self  when  occasion  re 
quired,  had  won  him  adherents  who  remained 
wilfully  blind  to  his  lack  of  truth  and  to  his 
contempt  for  certain  brands  of  honor.  To 
honor  of  a  special  kind,  however,  he  was 
always  true.  If  he  gave  his  word  when  the 
breaking  of  it  might  compromise  a  friend, 
he  invariably  fulfilled  his  promise  at  whatever 
cost. 

Another  characteristic  that  brought  annoy 
ance  and  mortification  to  the  household,  and 
especially  to  the  peace-loving  Bessie,  was  this 
boy's  pugnacity.  Hardly  a  day  went  by,  dur 
ing  the  first  fortnight  of  his  visit,  in  which  his 
face  presented  its  normal  coloring.  Either 
an  eye  was  blackened,  a  lip  swollen,  or  there 
were  other  disfigurations.  His  knuckles,  as 
a  rule,  were  "  skinned."  For  it  appeared 
necessary,  at  least  to  Stephen,  that  decisions 
142 


Gloria  Victis 

should  be  reached  at  once  as  to  whether  he 
could  "  lick "  the  other  boys,  or  vice  versa. 
This,  to  his  shame  be  it  recorded,  was  owing 
less  to  curiosity  on  his  part  than  to  a  desire 
for  displaying  a  certain  physical  superiority. 
And  while  this  superiority  led  to  occasional 
bullying  of  those  smaller  than  himself,  it  must 
also  be  recorded,  to  his  credit,  that  he  never 
shrunk  from  confronting  other  bullies  of  what 
ever  size.  For  these  bigger  bullies,  however, 
there  was  little  satisfaction  in  meeting  an 
enemy  who  not  only  enjoyed  the  combat, 
but  who  slept  upon  the  field  of  battle.  Steve 
never  acknowledged  defeat.  He  was  always 
ready  to  begin  again.  The  result  was  that, 
after  a  few  sanguinary  encounters  with  the 
fighting  boys  of  the  village,  he  was  awarded 
the  championship  for  the  sake  of  peace,  and 
hostilities  ended. 

While  achieving  this  glory,  he  proved  a 
most  distressing  element  among  the  peace 
able,  order-loving  Thornes.  Almost  every 
thing  he  did  was  a  surprise.  Of  this  he  had 
no  suspicion,  believing  himself,  without  giv 
ing  the  matter  any  thought,  to  be  the  average 
boy.  But  to  Bessie  and  Aunt  Lorinda  he 
H3 


Gloria  Victis 

was  a  revelation.  That  any  single  human 
being  should  comprise  so  many  conflicting 
traits,  so  many  that  were  alarming,  —  even 
criminal,  —  and  yet  display  upon  occasion 
qualities  that  bordered  on  the  heroic,  was  even 
more  than  a  revelation.  It  was  a  shock. 
And  it  broadened  their  points  of  view  with  a 
suddenness  that  destroyed  their  faith  in  all 
previous  theories  of  human  nature. 

The  acceptance  in  their  midst  of  such  a 
dog  as  Cato  proved  the  liberalizing  tendencies 
of  Stephen's  influence.  Cato's  introduction 
took  place  one  afternoon  as  Aunt  Lorinda 
with  Dr.  Thorne  and  the  bishop  were  stroll 
ing  along  the  path  through  the  old-fashioned 
garden,  conversing  with  solemn  faces  upon  a 
family  matter. 

They  all  looked  up  as  the  little  gate  swung 
to,  and  saw  Stephen,  his  face  illumined  with 
pride  and  joy,  running  toward  them  with  an 
animal  in  tow.  Halting  before  the  trio,  he 
exclaimed, — 

"  Look  at  him  !      He  's  mine  !  " 

And  he  pointed  triumphantly  to  the  quad 
ruped  by  his  side. 

This  creature  was  a  bulldog,  brindled, 
144 


Gloria  Victis 

wide-chested,  bow-legged,  with  a  project 
ing  jaw  and  visible  teeth.  In  the  absurdly 
short  space  between  his  nose  and  his  dissi 
pated,  bloodshot  eyes  were  cynical  creases, 
as  if  a  careless  or  a  disappointed  Creator  had 
jammed  his  nose  into  his  face.  This  nose 
and  the  stumps  of  his  close-cut  ears  were  an 
unpleasant  pink.  The  same  color  obtained 
also  about  his  eyes.  He  looked  immoral, 
pugnacious,  and  tough.  He  seemed  a  dog 
who  might  prefer  gin  to  water,  and  who 
might  swear  and  chew  tobacco;  who  if  he 
smoked  would  hold  the  cigar  in  a  corner  of 
his  mouth,  and  never  remove  it.  His  tongue 
hung  out  a  little  between  his  teeth,  and  when 
he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  a  person  he  gave  the 
impression  as  if  about  to  spring  and  fasten 
onto  human  flesh  until  Death,  and  Death 
alone,  should  part  his  jaws. 

Aunt  Lorinda  took  a  backward  step,  rather 
behind  the  bishop;  and  the  bishop,  had  not 
pride  restrained  him,  would  have  placed  him 
self  in  turn  behind  Aunt  Lorinda.  But  he 
stood  his  ground,  and  encountered  without 
flinching  the  upward  gaze  of  the  brindled 
brute,  who  looked  him  calmly  and  somewhat 
10  145 


Gloria  Victis 

warningly  in  the  eyes  with  an  expression 
that  made  it  clear  indeed  that  he  had  no  fear 
of  bishops. 

"  Take  him  away  !  Take  him  away  !  " 
exclaimed  Aunt  Lorinda.  "  Take  that  hor 
rid  thing  out  of  this  yard,  Stephen,  and  never 
bring  him  here  again  !  " 

The  joy  departed  from  Stephen's  face.  In 
a  tone  of  the  keenest  disappointment  he 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Why,  he 's  a  splendid  dog !  He  can  lick 
anything  in  town." 

"  Where  did  you  get  him,  Stephen  ? " 
asked  Dr.  Thorne. 

"  From  Barney  Case." 

"  Did  you  buy  him  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  he  gave  him  to  me." 

u  That  is  unusual.  Barney  is  not  in  the 
habit  of  giving  away  his  dogs.  Are  you  sure 
he  gave  him  to  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  it  will  be  no  loss  to  you  if  you 
take  him  back." 

A  swift  glance  from  Steve  expressed  more 
to  Dr.  Thorne  than  to  the  others,  and  the 
boy  lowered  his  eyes. 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Lorinda. 
"  Think  of  living  with  such  a  thing  !  Why, 
I  should  feel  safer  with  a  Bengal  tiger." 

"  He  won't  bite,"  said  Steve.  «  Look  !  " 
and  stooping  down  he  pried  open  the  shape 
less  mouth  and  inserted  a  ringer.  During 
this  performance  the  animal  turned  his  large 
brown  eyes  in  gentle  inquiry  to  Stephen's  face. 
These  eyes,  upon  a  calmer  examination, 
seemed  honest  and  even  tender ;  out  of  har 
mony,  in  fact,  with  the  reckless  pugnacity  of 
his  general  appearance. 

Dr.  Thorne,  better  versed  in  dogs  than  his 
companions,  turned  to  Aunt  Lorinda  and 
said,  — 

"  He  probably  is  not  so  bad  as  he  looks." 

"  To  be  that  bad,"  said  the  bishop,  "  would 
be  impossible." 

"  What  is  his  name,  Stephen  ?  " 

"  Cato." 

"  Cato  ?  There  seems  a  want  of  fitness." 
Then,  turning  to  the  bishop  with  a  serious 
face,  he  inquired,  — 

"  John,  do  you  remember    Cato    as    that 
kind  of  man,  —  a  bow-legged,  Bowery  tough, 
with  a  chip  on  his  shoulder  ? " 
H7 


Gloria  Victis 

The  bishop  smiled. 

"  No,  I  do  not  j  but  there  may  be  more 
fitness  than  we  think.  Those  later  Romans 
were  a  dangerous  lot." 

However,  it  ended  by  Aunt  Lorinda  being 
persuaded  to  give  Cato  a  chance,  and  that  chance 
was  all  he  needed.  Both  she  and  Bessie,  when 
once  accustomed  to  his  threatening  appearance, 
found  him  not  only  safe,  but  faithful,  affection 
ate,  and  long-suffering.  They  always  main 
tained,  however,  that  a  dog  of  Cato's  aspect 
rendered  outward  respectability  impossible. 

"  Strangers  who  see  him  at  the  door,"  said 
Aunt  Lorinda,  "  will  be  sure  there 's  a  bar 
room  in  the  house." 

The  following  afternoon  Dr.  Thorne  called 
Steve  into  the  library.  He  told  him,  as 
the  boy  stood  leaning  against  his  knee,  a  hand 
in  one  of  his  own,  that  he  had  learned  from 
Barney  Case  that  seven  dollars  had  been  re 
ceived  for  Cato. 

"  Now,  Steve,  I  want  you  to  tell  me, 
truthfully,  where  you  got  that  money." 

Steve  hesitated.  Then  looking  his  ques 
tioner  frankly  in  the  face,  his  own  eyes 
radiant  with  truth, — 


Gloria  Victis 

"  I  found  it." 

"  Where  did  you  find  it  ?  " 

Again  there  was  hesitation. 

"  I  forget." 

Dr.  Thorne  with  his  other  hand  patted 
him  gently  on  the  shoulder. 

"No,  no;  be  honest,  Stephen.  Where 
did  you  find  it  ?  " 

"  On  the  kitchen  table." 

"  And  you  knew  it  was  Ellen's  money." 

"  I  did  n't  know." 

u  Yes,  you  knew,  for  you  heard  poor  Ellen 
asking  about  it." 

Steve  twisted  the  little  gold  ring  upon  his 
finger,  but  answered  nothing. 

"  I  thought  you  and  Ellen  were  the  best 
of  friends." 

"  We  be  —  we  are'9 

"  She  has  been  very  kind  to  you,  has  n't 
she  ?  She  has  cooked  things  especially  for 
you;  and  she  tied  up  your  thumb  that  day 
you  cut  it." 

«  Yes." 

"  And  now,"  continued  the  doctor,  always 
gently,  "  you  repay  her  by  robbing  her  of  her 
wages." 

149 


Gloria  Victis 

Steve  lowered  his  eyes. 

"  You  rob  her,  your  own  friend,  to  whom 
you  ought  to  be  grateful,  by  depriving  her  of 
the  benefits  of  her  labor." 

This  was  putting  it  in  a  new  light.  A 
little  color  crept  over  Stephen's  face,  and  he 
looked  away. 

u  Pretty  small  business,  is  n't  it,  for  a 
manly  boy  with  any  sense  of  honor  ?  And 
it  is  disappointing  for  me  to  find  you  are  too 
weak  to  resist  temptation,  and  ready  to  turn 
at  any  moment  and  betray  those  who  trust 
you,  who  helped  you  when  in  trouble.  In 
gratitude  is  bad  enough ;  but  to  be  a  thieving 
traitor  who  —  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Steve,  facing  about 
with  quivering  lips,  "  I  ain't  that !  I  ain't ! 
I  did  n't  think  all  that.  Really,  I  did  n't !  " 
and,  extending  his  arm,  he  pressed  his  hand 
against  the  doctor's  chest. 

"  Well,  I  believe  you,  Stephen ;  that  you 
did  n't  realize  what  a  mean  business  you 
were  undertaking.  But  I  want  you  to  make 
me  a  promise, — a  solemn  promise  that  you 
will  stick  to  through  thick  and  thin,  all  your 
life.  That  is,  that  you  will  never  steal  again; 
150 


Gloria  Victis 

never,  under  any  circumstances.  Can  you 
make  such  a  promise  and  keep  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir !     Yes,  sir  !  " 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  you  to  make  the  promise 
unless  you  are  sure  you  can  keep  it." 

"  I  am  sure  I  can.     I  will." 

"Very  well.  Then  lay  your  hand  in 
mine,  so.  Now  say,  '  Dr.  Thorne,  I  give 
you  my  word  of  honor  that  I  will  never  steal 
again.'  " 

Steve  repeated  the  words  with  an  emphasis 
and  decision  that  gave  encouragement  to  the 
listener. 

The  interview  had  been  short;  but  the 
counsellor  and  friend,  considering  the  offend 
er's  character,  believed  the  lesson  might  be 
weakened  by  a  moral  lecture. 

Ellen  was  reimbursed,  and  Stephen  made 
to  feel  that  he  was  freely  forgiven  and  fully 
trusted. 

A  day  or  two  later,  quite  early  in  the 
morning,  as  Steve  was  lounging  about  the 
porch  in  company  with  Cato,  his  rapturous 
admirer,  Captain  Chauncey  came  down  the 
stairs  and  halted  in  the  doorway,  rod  in 
hand,  all  dressed  and  equipped  for  fishing. 


Gloria  Victis 

His  face  seemed  harder  than  usual,  and  yet 
about  his  mouth  were  indications  of  a  smile. 
This  smile,  had  it  developed,  would  have 
been  sardonic  and  exultant. 

"  Are  you  going  fishing  ?  "  asked  Stephen. 

Captain  Chauncey  regarded  the  boy  a  mo 
ment,  and  appeared  to  be  getting  his  mouth 
into  just  the  right  position  for  the  kind  of  an 
swer  he  proposed  to  give.  This  resulted  in 
a  curling  of  the  upper  lip,  a  slight  opening  of 
the  mouth,  and  a  further  projection  of  the 
under  jaw. 

"  No,  I  am  going  first  to  a  funeral  and  then 
to  church.  I  should  think  you  might  have 
guessed  it  from  my  basket,  rod,  and  bait  box." 

Stephen,  too  simple  and  direct  himself  to 
fully  grasp  the  sarcasm,  smiled  pleasantly  in 
return.  Captain  Chauncey  gave  no  respond 
ing  smile,  but  asked  a  question,  — 

"  Would  the  murderer  like  to  go  too  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  "  and "  Steve,  with  enthusiasm, 
jumped  quickly  from  his  seat.  "  I  '11  get 
my  line  in  a  second !  " 

"  Hold  on  !  Don't  be  in  a  hurry.  To 
day  I  prefer  to  be  alone.  The  invitation  is 
for  some  other  day." 

152 


Gloria  Victis 

Then,  as  the  face  before  him  changed 
from  happy  expectancy  to  the  keenest  sor 
row,  and  then  to  embarrassment,  the  captain 
really  smiled,  —  his  usual  smile,  however,  of 
victory,  not  of  mirth :  his  mouth  opening 
wider  at  the  corners  than  in  the  centre.  He 
also  raised  his  chin,  and  regarded  Stephen 
with  eyes  that  gave  no  suggestion  of  a  smile. 
Then  he  turned  and  walked  away. 

Stephen's  adoration  of  Mrs.  Chauncey  im 
plied  no  hostility  toward  the  existing  hus 
band.  On  the  contrary,  he  tried  to  like  him. 
Future  complications  resulting  from  a  second 
spouse  caused  him  no  anxiety. 

Whether  Captain  Chauncey  would  relin 
quish  his  wife  upon  the  appearance  of  another 
suitor,  or  whether  God  in  His  mercy  would 
remove  the  captain  at  the  proper  time,  as 
He  habitually  removed  the  shades  of  night  at 
sunrise,  were  unimportant  details  to  be  ad 
justed  in  the  happy  future.  Steve  only  knew 
with  certainty  that  ten  years  hence,  when  he 
was  twenty-one,  —  Bessie  of  course  remain 
ing  her  present  age,  —  they  were  to  be  mar 
ried;  he,  Stephen,  in  the  intervening  years 
having  covered  himself  with  blood  and  glory. 
153 


Gloria  Victis 

At  present  he  was  forced  to  content  himself 
with  watching  her,  with  listening  to  her 
voice,  and  dreaming  dreams  of  heroic  deeds 
and  complete  possession. 

It  was  with  deep  although  silent  grief 
that  he  learned  the  lady  of  his  choice  was 
merely  visiting  at  Lyn stock ;  and  he  partook 
sincerely  in  the  family  sorrow  when  Bessie 
informed  them,  one  morning  at  breakfast, 
that  their  visit  was  to  be  shortened  by  a 
month,  Captain  Chauncey  having  decided  to 
return  to  Vienna  within  a  week.  There 
were  traces  of  weeping  in  her  face  when  she 
came  to  the  table,  and  this  information  was 
given  with  quivering  lips  and  in  a  breaking 
voice. 

Aunt  Lorinda  laid  down  her  knife  and 
fork,  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  re 
frained  from  speech.  She  knew  that  if  she 
spoke  her  expressions  would  shock  her 
nephew.  Had  the  captain  himself  been 
present,  the  temptation  might  have  proved 
too  strong.  Dr.  Thorne  arose  from  the 
table  and  walked  into  his  study,  bearing  the 
outward  traces  of  a  righteous  indignation ; 
for  he  knew  as  well  as  Aunt  Lorinda  that 
'54 


Gloria  Victis 

Captain  Chauncey  made  no  pretence  of  re 
spect  for  Bessie's  wishes  or  for  those  of  her 
family.  This  visit  to  her  home,  the  first 
in  five  years,  was  not  likely  to  be  repeated, 
as  the  captain  was  bored  at  Lynstock,  and 
he  was  not  a  victim  to  the  habit  of  self- 
sacrifice.  To  be  sure,  he  had  promised,  and 
it  was  distinctly  understood,  that  they  were 
to  remain  until  the  middle  of  September; 
and  he  knew  that  for  this  violation  of  his 
word  there  would  be  an  augmentation  of  con 
tempt  on  the  part  of  Aunt  Lorinda  and  of 
Dr.  Thome.  That  troubled  him  little,  how 
ever,  as  once  out  of  Lynstock  neither  he  nor 
Bessie  should  ever  enter  it  again. 

As  for  Stephen,  he  looked  forward  to  a 
sunless  life  after  the  departure  of  the  woman 
he  loved. 

The  knowledge  of  this  approaching  sepa 
ration  caused  father  and  daughter  to  be  more 
frequently  together  during  the  remaining  days. 
And  one  afternoon  that  very  week,  while  Dr. 
Thorne  was  writing  at  his  study-table,  Bessie 
sat  near  the  open  window,  her  work  in  her  lap, 
gazing  sadly  over  the  flowers  to  the  distant 
hills.  A  summer  breeze,  bearing  perfumes 
155 


Gloria  Victis 

from  the  old-fashioned  garden,  —  the  garden 
of  her  happy  youth,  —  blew  gently  against 
her  face,  and  sharpened  the  sorrow  of  ap 
proaching  separation. 

Around  this  library  —  a  long  low  room, 
with  windows  on  opposite  sides  —  ran  an  old- 
fashioned  wainscoting  reaching  half-way  to 
the  ceiling.  The  paper  was  a  faded  green, 
dotted  with  enormous  roses,  once  crimson, 
but  which  during  seventy  years  had  faded  to 
the  palest  pink.  There  were  cases  filled 
with  books,  and  above  them  hung  family 
portraits  and  some  quaint  old  prints.  An 
enormous  chimney,  with  panels  to  the  ceil 
ing  and  cupboards  at  the  sides,  filled  one  end 
of  the  apartment. 

Stephen,  in  a  further  corner,  was  adorning 
the  surface  of  a  kite.  This  kite,  a  preten 
tious  structure,  was  the  result  of  long  hours 
of  labor.  The  only  sounds  in  the  room  came 
from  the  squeaking  goose-quill  moving  swiftly 
across  the  paper,  with  occasional  movements 
from  Stephen  as  he  applied  the  colors  to  the 
"  Daisy  Flyer."  Steve  was  no  artist,  and 
once,  when  the  writer  turned  to  see  how  the 
work  progressed,  he  smiled  at  the  gaudy 


Gloria  Victis 

masses  that  represented,  in  the  painter's  mind, 
a  lady  with  golden  wings.  One  indigo  eye, 
from  excess  of  color,  had  traversed  cheek  and 
neck.  The  space  for  the  mouth  had  been 
forgotten,  and  the  yellow  wings  were  flutter 
ing  in  unwished-for  places.  Cato,  slumbrous 
and  with  blinking  eyes,  sat  close  by  his  mas 
ter's  feet.  Occasionally  he  moved  an  admir 
ing  glance  from  the  kite  to  Stephen's  face. 

This  peaceful  silence,  whose  only  interrup 
tion  within  half  an  hour  had  been  the  tem 
porary  visit  of  a  humming-bird,  at  last  was 
harshly  broken.  In  the  vicinity  of  the  kite 
there  was  a  rapid  movement,  with  a  peculiar 
sound  from  Cato  as  if  he  had  received  a 
kick  ;  a  snapping  of  wood,  a  rending  of  paper, 
all  followed  by  a  flow  of  language  that  brought 
the  writer  to  his  feet  with  an  exclamation  of 
disgust. 

This  flow  of  language  consisted  almost 
exclusively  of  curses.  The  kite  with  the 
lady  on  its  surface  was  denounced  in  reckless 
terms.  The  Almighty  and  our  Saviour  were 
blasphemously  insulted,  these  holy  names,  in 
the  lavish  and  unconsidered  invective,  becom 
ing  themselves  the  objects  of  their  own  anath- 
157 


Gloria  Victis 

ema.  And  from  the  startling  frequency  of 
the  word  "  damn  "  and  from  its  superfluous 
repetition,  it  was  obvious  that  the  speaker 
employed  it  not  only  for  the  meaning  con 
veyed,  but  because  of  its  welcome  sound. 
The  malodorousness  of  the  most  sacred  char 
acters  of  Christianity  was  repeatedly  alluded 
to,  and  with  no  attempt  at  refinement. 

With  the  first  sentence  of  this  triumph  of 
blasphemy  Bessie  started  to  her  feet,  horror- 
stricken  and  doubting  her  own  senses.  The 
revolting  language,  all  swiftly  uttered  in  a 
reckless  fury,  had  for  its  accompaniment  a 
whirlwind  of  paper,  sticks,  and  kite  tail, 
Stephen  dancing  in  the  centre  with  revolving 
arms,  beside  himself  with  passion. 

Cato,  from  beneath  a  distant  table,  looked 
on  in  pained  astonishment,  and  fixed  inquiring 
eyes  upon  Dr.  Thome. 

The  commotion  ended  as  suddenly  as  it 
began.  Stephen  staggered  from  the  wreck, 
drawing  the  back  of  his  hand  across  his  fore 
head.  His  face  was  very  white.  Defiantly 
and  with  sullen  rage  his  eyes  for  an  instant 
met  the  gaze  of  Dr.  Thorne ;  then  he  lowered 
his  face  as  if  in  shame. 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  Do  you  suppose  such 
language  is  permitted  in  this  house  ?  Or  in 
any  other  ?  " 

Stephen  looked  up.  His  lips,  now  dry  and 
colorless,  made  the  motions  of  replying,  but 
no  sound  came  forth. 

u  You  understand  ?  "  said  Dr.  Thome, 
with  a  severity  in  terrifying  contrast  to  his 
usual  gentleness.  "  Even  to  have  such 
thoughts  is  disgraceful.  To  utter  them  an 
unpardonable  offence  —  not  only  against  re 
ligion  but  against  decency  and  against  your 
friends." 

Stephen  tried  to  speak,  and  had  to  moisten 
his  lips.  His  voice  was  hoarse,  and  came 
with  difficulty. 

"  What  did  I  say  ?  " 

"  What  did  you  say !  Do  you  suppose 
any  self-respecting  person  is  going  to  repeat 
it  ?  " 

In  a  firmer  voice,  unmistakably  sincere, 
and  with  a  troubled  expression,  he  said : 
"  Really,  sir  $  really  I  don't  know  what  I 
said." 

'59 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Then  are  you  crazy  ?  Are  you  a  blas 
phemer  so  callous  and  irresponsible  that 
you  have  already  forgotten  ?  " 

The  blasphemer  closed  his  eyes,  and 
again  drew  the  back  of  a  hand  across  his 
forehead. 

u  I  guess  I  'm  crazy,  like  ma." 

"  Better  if  you  were  crazy  than  do  it 
knowingly." 

Steve  made  no  defence. 

"  What  Js  that  about  your  mother  ?  You 
say  crazy  like  her  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Was  she  —  had  she  such  fits  of  temper  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir  !  And  she  was  crazy  mad 
when  she  had  'em."  Then,  with  a  mourn 
ful  glance  toward  the  remnants  of  the  kite,  — 
the  kite  upon  which  he  and  Billy  Brewster 
had  spent  several  afternoons  of  enthusiastic 
labor,  u  She  used  to  smash  things  too.  She 
came  near  killin'  dad,  and  more  'n  once." 

In  a  gentler  voice,  reflectively,  as  if  com 
muning  with  himself,  Dr.  Thorne  inquired, 
"  So  your  mother  had  similar  attacks  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Dr.  Thorne  returned  to  his  chair,  and  for 
1 60 


Gloria  Victis 

a  moment  sat  in  silence.  Then  he  called 
Stephen  to  his  side,  and  as  he  listened  to 
certain  anecdotes  of  Mrs.  Wadsworth,  of  her 
murderous  fury,  and  of  how  father  and  son, 
habitually  and  by  a  previous  understanding, 
seized  and  held  her  for  common  safety  until 
reason  returned,  his  anger  gave  place  to  pity. 
And  Steve,  thoroughly  ashamed  of  his  be 
havior,  received  words  of  consolation  and 
advice.  Then,  collecting  the  scattered  frag 
ments  of  the  kite,  he  left  the  library,  the  for 
giving  Cato  at  his  heels. 

Dr.  Thorne  went  over  to  the  window,  and 
standing  by  his  daughter,  they  discussed  this 
matter,  deciding  to  aid  their  guest  by  gentle 
means  toward  a  mastery  of  himself. 

"  Such  a  temper,"  said  the  father,  "  is  an 
awful  heritage,  too  heavy  for  human  resist 
ance.  Poor  Steve  !  I  sometimes  think  him 
specially  ordained,  by  inheritance  and  training, 
for  a  life  of  crime.  His  very  virtues  are 
against  him.  Courage,  self-reliance,  and  a 
love  of  freedom  and  adventure  make  a  dan 
gerous  balance-wheel  to  a  perverted  con 
science.  And  with  his  health  and  strength  it 
is  all  the  harder  to  be  good." 
ii  161 


Gloria  Victis 

As  he  stood  by  her  chair,  both  looking  out 
into  the  garden,  they  went  on  to  other  sub 
jects,  each  avoiding  the  one  that  lay  heaviest 
in  their  hearts,  the  parting,  perhaps  forever, 
that  was  soon  to  come. 

Long  after  he  had  returned  to  his  work, 
Bessie's  hands  lay  idle  in  her  lap,  her  eyes 
moving  sadly  from  the  old  garden  to  the 
little  cemetery  on  the  hill,  then  to  her  parent 
at  the  table,  whose  life,  as  she  now  reviewed 
it,  seemed  one  unvarying  record  of  kindly 
deeds,  of  unresting  charity  and  of  self-for- 
getfulness. 

The  sun,  now  sinking  in  the  west,  was 
creeping  slowly  across  the  carpet,  when  a 
door  from  the  hall  opened  very  slowly  —  and 
very  little.  Dr.  Thorne,  who  chanced  in  a 
reflective  moment  to  be  looking  in  that  direc 
tion,  saw  the  maid,  with  a  warning  glance 
toward  Bessie,  anxiously  beckon  him  to  come 
out.  He  obeyed. 

On  the  porch  stood  a  group  of  men.  At 
the  end  of  the  path,  outside  the  gate,  were 
other  people,  men,  women,  and  children,  a)l 
silent  and  with  solemn  faces,  looking  ear 
nestly  toward  the  house.  The  spokesman,  as 
162 


Gloria  Victis 

Dr.  Thorne  approached,  removed  his  hat  and 
stood  aside.  Upon  a  rudely  constructed  litter 
lay  a  human  form,  the  face  reverently  hidden 
by  a  cloth. 

u  He  was  found  in  the  woods  about  an 
hour  ago  at  the  foot  of  Beeman's  Ledge,  by 
a  couple  o'  boys.  He  probably  slipped  from 
the  rocks,  and  must  'a'  fell  nigh  onto  a  hun 
dred  feet." 

As  he  spoke,  the  cloth  was  removed,  and 
Dr.  Thorne  looked  down  upon  the  cold, 
white  face  of  Captain  Chauncey. 


163 


VIII 

DELATING  to  this  death  were  circum 
stances  which  invited  explanation. 

The  narrowest  part  of  the  ledge  —  the 
point  where  Captain  Chauncey's  hat  was 
found  and  at  whose  base  lay  the  body  — 
was  fully  two  yards  wide,  and  although  a 
hundred  feet  from  the  rocks  beneath  was 
never  regarded  as  a  hazardous  path.  By  the 
inhabitants  of  Upper  Lynstock  it  was  fre 
quently  travelled  as  a  shorter  cut  to  the 
larger  village.  Captain  Chauncey  himself  had 
trodden  it  twenty  times  at  least  this  very 
summer  in  going  to  Willow  Pond,  and  on 
this  particular  day  there  appeared  no  signs  of 
unusual  peril.  It  was  not  slippery,  and  no 
portion  of  the  shelf  had  given  way. 

His  felt  hat,  a  light  pearl-gray  in  color, 
was  lying  a  yard  or  more  from  the  edge  of 
the  precipice,  and  bore  unmistakable  marks 
of  having  been  ground  into  the  earth  by  a 

•64 


Gloria  Victis 

heel  with  iron  nails.  This  suggested  vio 
lence,  as  he  could  hardly  have  done  it  him 
self  in  an  accidental  fall.  Nothing  else  was 
found  upon  the  ledge.  His  fishing-rod  with 
nickel-plated  joints,  which  he  carried  when 
he  left  the  house,  had  disappeared.  The 
most  thorough  search  in  the  neighborhood 
of  his  body  and  also  about  the  ledge  de 
veloped  no  trace  of  it. 

The  body  lay  directly  beneath  the  ledge. 
The  back  of  the  skull  was  broken  in,  pre 
sumably  by  the  fall,  as  no  signs  of  blood 
were  visible  either  upon  his  hat  or  anywhere 
in  its  vicinity.  His  cravat,  the  clothing 
about  his  chest,  and  one  sleeve  were  begrimed 
and  scraped  with  dirt,  the  rest  of  his  apparel 
being  hardly  soiled.  The  finger-nails  of  both 
hands,  being  broken  and  filled  with  dirt, 
gave  evidence  of  desperate  clutchings  at 
earth  and  rocks  and  bushes. 

These  facts  excited  comment,  and  com 
ment  led  swiftly  to  suspicion,  —  first  of  suicide, 
then  of  foul  play.  The  evidence,  however, 
while  seemingly  sufficient  for  either  theory, 
contradicted  both. 

No    theory    of   suicide    was    accepted   by 


Gloria  Victis 

those  who  knew  him.  He  was  fond  of  life, 
and  his  fear  of  death  was  more  than  whole 
some.  The  idea  of  murder  appeared  equally 
unreasonable,  as  he  had  no  enemies  in  the 
village,  and  his  pockets  were  undisturbed. 
His  watch  and  a  few  dollars  still  remained 
upon  his  person.  Nobody  in  Lynstock 
seemed  likely  to  commit  a  murder  for  a 
fishing-rod,  especially  as  its  discovery  might 
send  the  possessor  to  the  gallows.  Taken 
altogether,  it  was  a  death  that  formed  a  thrill 
ing  mystery. 

On  the  day  of  the  funeral,  from  early 
morning  until  late  at  night,  a  heavy  rain, 
varying  only  in  its  degrees  of  copiousness, 
saturated  the  village  and  formed  generous 
puddles  along  its  streets  and  sidewalks. 

The  services  were  at  the  house,  Dr.  Thorne 
officiating. 

A  prayer  was  offered  by  the  bishop.  This 
prayer,  considering  the  bishop's  low  esteem 
for  the  spirit  previously  animating  the  re 
mains  before  him,  was  a  non-committal 
triumph.  While  cautious,  it  appeared  be 
nignly  comprehensive.  In  so  far  as  it 
concerned  the  deceased,  this  prayer  could 
1 66 


Gloria  Victis 

have  been  offered  with  equal  fitness  at  the 
funeral  of  Florence  Nightingale  or  of 
Captain  Kidd. 

The  task  of  Dr.  Thorne  was  far  less  simple. 
A  more  specific  application  is  expected  in  a 
eulogy,  and  Captain  Chauncey  had  earned 
his  sincere  contempt,  a  contempt  that  was 
hearty  and  without  reservation.  Moreover 
the  death  which  it  was  now  his  office  to  pub 
licly  regret,  could  not  fail  to  prove  a  bless 
ing  to  his  daughter  and  an  unspeakable  relief 
to  all  who  loved  her.  But  the  speaker  was 
no  novice.  With  skilful  emphasis  he  touched 
upon  those  faults  of  which  the  deceased  was 
guiltless,  dwelling  kindly  upon  the  fact  that 
in  this  sudden  death  they  had  lost  a  refined, 
intelligent  companion,  a  seeker  after  knowl 
edge,  a  temperate,  dignified,  law-abiding 
citizen.  And  this  he  could  do  with  truth, 
wishing  his  hearers  to  forget,  at  least  for  the 
time,  that  this  same  son-in-law  had  been 
ungrateful,  mean,  and  cruel ;  that  he  was  a 
domestic  bully,  useless,  offensively  selfish,  and 
impossible  to  live  with.  In  these  remarks  he 
thought  principally  of  his  mourning  daughter. 
This  daughter,  whose  sensitive  conscience 


Gloria  Victis 

upbraided  her  for  having  withheld  that  per 
fect  love  and  confidence  which  the  ideal  wife 
should  lavish  upon  a  husband,  was  crushed 
with  grief;  and  this  grief  was  now  more  tor 
turing  than  if  her  husband  had  been  a  better 
man. 

Aunt  Lorinda,  her  face  invisible  behind  a 
veil,  seemed  a  model  of  self-control ;  while 
Steve,  in  his  Sunday  suit  of  black  with  a 
broad  white  collar,  sat  demurely  near  the 
foot  of  the  coffin  and  comported  himself  with 
becoming  solemnity.  Once,  however,  as 
Dr.  Thome,  during  a  pause  in  his  remarks, 
happened  to  look  down  into  his  face,  he  was 
greeted  by  an  intent,  somewhat  puzzled  ex 
pression,  quickly  followed  by  a  half-suppressed 
smile,  which  at  the  moment  he  regarded 
merely  as  a  boyish  recognition. 

On  returning  from  the  cemetery  the  discon 
solate  Bessie  sought  seclusion  in  her  chamber, 
Aunt  Lorinda,  with  Dr.  Thorne  and  the 
bishop,  passing  on  into  the  library. 

As  they  entered  this  room,  where  the  mel 
ancholy  silence  of  a  recent  death  still  held 
possession,  the  irrepressible  aunt  was  the  first 
to  speak. 

168 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Death  is  an  awful  thing,  although  this 
bereavement  does  strengthen  my  faith  in  the 
watchfulness  of  Providence." 

"  Aunt  Lorinda !  "  exclaimed  Dr.  Thorne. 
"  Respect  the  dead  !  " 

"  Oh,  come  now,  William,"  she  retorted, 
turning  about  and  confronting  her  two  distin 
guished  nephews,  "  you  are  much  too  good  ! 
You  know  as  well  as  anybody  that  he  was 
the  curse  of  Bessie's  life.  And  of  yours 
too !  Any  show  of  grief  from  those  who 
care  for  that  girl  is  a  transparent  sham. 
We  've  put  on  black  and  seen  him  properly 
buried,  —  all  with  solemn  faces  and  a  decent 
show  of  grief, —  which  is  more  than  he  would 
have  done  for  us.  And  now,  I  say,  all  who 
have  any  regard  for  our  Bessie  are  inwardly 
rejoicing." 

Turning  suddenly  to  the  bishop,  she  de 
manded,  — 

"  Am  I  right,  John,  or  not  ?  " 

The  bishop  raised  his  eyebrows  and  stroked 
his  handsome  chin. 

u  Well,"  he  answered  reflectively.  "  Pos 
sibly,  —  in  a  sense.  But  there  is  a  solemnity 
in  death  —  " 

169 


Gloria  Victis 

u  Solemnity  in  rubbish  !  You  parsons  are 
more  timid  than  mice.  Forget  that  you  are 
a  bishop  and  for  once  in  your  life  give  an 
honest  opinion  ! " 

Dr.   Thorne    could    not  repress    a    smile. 

"  That 's  into  you,  John." 

"You  both  know,"  continued  Aunt  Lo- 
rinda,  untying  the  strings  of  her  bonnet  with 
decisive  fingers,  "  that  this  sudden  taking  off 
was  no  accident.  It  was  the  punishment  of 
God ! " 

A  movement  in  a  farther  corner  of  the 
room  caused  all  to  look  in  that  direction. 
From  a  spacious  chair  whose  back  was  to 
ward  them,  Stephen  emerged  and  came 
slowly  toward  the  group.  In  his  hand  was 
a  book,  and  at  his  heels  walked  Cato.  He 
had  never  appeared  so  intensely  respecta 
ble  —  so  genteel  and  outwardly  moral  —  as 
now.  In  his  Sunday  suit  of  black,  which  he 
had  donned  for  the  funeral,  with  its  knee- 
breeches,  long  stockings,  and  expansive  linen 
collar,  he  suggested  a  Van  Dyck  portrait  as 
he  stood,  book  in  hand,  against  the  gloom  be 
hind,  the  side-light  from  the  windows  leaving 
half  his  face  in  shadow. 
170 


Gloria  Victis 

u  It  was  n't  any  accident,  'cause  I  did  it." 

Dr.  Thorne  frowned. 

"  Did  what  ?  " 

"  Pushed  Captain  Chauncey  off  the  ledge." 

Aunt  Lorinda  took  a  backward  step  and 
sank  into  the  nearest  chair.  Her  parted  lips 
lost  what  little  color  they  possessed. 

"  You  pushed  him  off!  "  she  exclaimed,  in 
a  voice  hardly  above  a  whisper. 

Steve  nodded,  — a  boastful,  swaggering  nod ; 
and  he  smiled  as  if  enjoying  her  surprise. 

Although  she  knew  the  boy  to  be  a  liar,  there 
was  something  in  his  face  and  manner  at  the 
present  moment  that  deprived  her  of  the  power 
of  speech.  Dr.  Thorne  with  contracted  brows 
regarded  him  intently,  as  if  refusing  to  believe. 
He  also  knew  him  to  be  a  liar,  but  he  had 
learned  to  recognize  those  occasions  when 
Truth  and  Stephen  were  together,  and  this 
was  one  of  them. 

"  What    do     you    mean,    Stephen  ? "    he 

asked  in  a  constrained  voice,  in  a  tone  more 

anxious  than  severe.     "  You  do   not    mean 

to  say  that  you  —  killed  Captain  Chauncey  ?  " 

V«  Yes,  sir." 

Vhere  was  less  boastfulness  in  this  answer, 
171 


Gloria  Victis 

as  the  three  pairs  of  eyes,  all  fixed  intently 
upon  his  own  in  a  sudden  horror,  had  pro 
duced  a  sobering  effect. 

The  black  bonnet  slipped  from  Aunt  Lo- 
rinda's  fingers  to  the  floor.  She  clutched  the 
arms  of  her  chair,  but  said  nothing.  As  for 
the  bishop,  he  stood  staring  at  the  boy,  un 
able  to  reconcile  this  confession  of  a  mon 
strous  crime  with  a  pair  of  eyes  so  overladen 
with  purity  and  honor.  Even  Dr.  Thorne, 
more  familiar  with  Stephen's  moral  machinery, 
was  still  unable  to  believe. 

u  It  was,  of  course,  an  accident,"  he  said. 

Steve  shook  his  head  slowly,  but  with  a 
sidelong  movement  to  add  emphasis  to  the 
negative. 

"You  lost  your  temper,  and  became  ir 
responsible  ?  " 

"No,  sir.  I  did  it  on  purpose.  I  did  it 
for  Mrs.  Chauncey." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  mean  because  Mrs.  Chauncey  would 
never  be  happy  again  until  he  was  dead." 
Turning  to  Aunt  Lorinda,  he  added,  "  That 
very  morning  you  said,  c  There  '11  be  no  hap 
piness  for  Bessie  while  that  man  lives.' " 
172 


Gloria  Victis 

Aunt  Lorinda  straightened  up  as  if  to 
speak,  but  sank  back  into  her  chair,  and 
bowed  her  head.  Steve  saw  the  movement. 

"'TwaVt  that  alone,"  he  added  hastily, 
to  relieve  her  from  all  responsibility.  "  I 
was  n't  tryin'  to  lay  it  off  onto  you.  I  knew 
it  anyway,  from  lots  of  things." 

For  this  the  lady  gave  acknowledgment 
by  a  motion  of  the  head. 

"  Was  that  your  only  motive  ?  "  asked  Dr. 
Thorne. 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  was." 

Dr.  Thorne  drew  a  long  breath  and  closed 
his  eyes.  In  the  pause  that  followed,  Stephen 
leaned  back  against  the  table,  studying  the 
cover  of  his  book,  "  The  Last  of  the  Mohi 
cans."  Cato  came  a  little  nearer,  looking 
up  into  his  face  inquiringly,  as  one  who  began 
to  be  bored. 

«  Then,"  said  Dr.  Thorne,  still  hoping  for 
the  best,  "  you  can  tell  us  what  became  of  his 
fishing-rod." 

"  Yes,  sir.     It 's  up  in  the  attic." 

" Did  you  bring  it  home  yourself? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Run  up  and  fetch  it." 


Gloria  Victis 

As  Steve  left  the  room  with  Cato  at  his 
heels,  two  questioning  faces  turned  anxiously 
to  Dr.  Thorne. 

"  Can  it  be  ?  "  whispered  Aunt  Lorinda. 

A  shake  of  the  head  as  if  in  doubt  was  the 
only  answer. 

"  Impossible  !  "  exclaimed  the  bishop. 

Stephen's  feet,  clearing  two  steps  at  a  jump 
as  he  ascended  the  stairs,  were  all  that  broke 
the  silence. 

"  It  is  certainly  hard  to  accept,"  said  Dr. 
Thorne,  at  last,  "  yet  I  fear  he  is  telling  the 
truth."  Then  with  the  deepest  feeling  he 
added,  u  Poor  child  !  I  would  give  much  to 
prove  that  he  was  not !  " 

Steve  in  the  mean  time  descended  from 
the  attic,  the  missing  fishing-rod  in  his  hand. 
As  he  passed  the  open  door  of  Bessie's 
chamber,  she  recognized  the  familiar  article 
and  started  to  her  feet.  But  the  bearer  in 
another  instant  was  out  of  hearing,  and  scam 
pering  down  the  stairs. 

When  this  bit  of  evidence  was  placed  in 
Dr.  Thome's  unwilling  hands,  his  face  grew 
sadder  and  he  regarded  it  with  a  melancholy 
frown.  He  told  Steve  to  lay  it  on  the  table. 


Gloria  Victis 

Steve  obeyed,  remaining  in  his  old  position, 
the  three  sable  figures  in  a  line  before  him. 

The  bishop,  erect  and  impassive,  one  hand 
upon  the  back  of  Aunt  Lorinda's  chair,  un 
able  to  believe  yet  knowing  he  heard  the 
truth,  was  the  next  to  speak. 

"  Had  you  already  decided  upon  this  deed, 
and  were  only  waiting  an  opportunity  to 
accomplish  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  Steve  answered  quickly.  "  I 
never  thought  of  it  till  just  that  minute. 
We  were  walking  along,  and  just  before  we 
got  to  that  narrow  place,  where  it 's  so  awful 
high  and  makes  you  dizzy  to  look  over,  I 
thought  what  an  awful  thing  it  would  be  for 
either  of  us  to  slip  off;  and  then,  right  at  the 
same  time,  I  remembered  that  if  be  should 
slip  off  it  would  be  a  mighty  good  thing  for 
Mrs.  Chauncey." 

"  Go  on.     Tell  us  just  how  it  happened." 

u  So  I  got  all  ready  and  kept  right  up  close 
to  him,  on  the  inside.  And  I  had  to  brace 
up  'cause  it  wa'  n't  no  —  it  wa'  n't  a  —  easy 
job,  either,  as  he  might  grab  me  and  take  me 
over  too ;  and  if  I  did  n't  push  hard  enough, 
he  'd  finish  me  afterwards,  I  guess." 
175 


Gloria  Victis 

As  the  narrator  appeared  to  expect  some 
recognition  of  the  risks  he  undertook,  the 
funereal  auditors  before  him  all  acknowledged 
by  look  or  gesture  their  appreciation  of  the 
hazard.  And  this  acknowledgment  was  sin 
cere.  Whatever  their  opinions  as  to  the 
righteousness  of  the  deed,  no  doubt  could 
exist  regarding  the  boldness  of  its  conception. 
Mistaking  their  close  attention  for  approval, 
he  laid  his  book  upon  the  table,  that  his  hands 
might  be  free,  and  illustrated  by  occasional 
attitudes  and  gestures  the  position  of  the  ledge 
and  of  Captain  Chauncey,  and  how  the  vic 
tory  was  achieved. 

"  Just  at  the  narrowest  part,"  he  continued, 
u  where  I  meant  to  do  it,  he  kept  further  in 
from  the  edge  than  I  counted  on,  but  I  thought 
I  'd  risk  it,  and  I  give  —  I  gave  him  an  awful 
push,  just  my  whole  weight — and  I  ducked. 
'T  was  lucky  I  did,  for  he  clutched  at  my 
head  and  pulled  my  hat  off.  I  could  n't  see 
him  when  I  ducked,  but  he  must  have  kinder 
turned  around  —  tryin'  to  recover  himself,  I 
guess — and  he  fell  just  on  the  edge,  facing 
in,  my  way.  He  slid  over  and  held  on  by 
his  hands  and  one  elbow.  He  was  awful 


Gloria  Victis 

white,  —  scared  lookin'.  His  chin  was  on  the 
edge  and  helped  hold  him  up.  He  thought 
at  first  it  was  accident,  I  guess,  for  he  said, 
'  Quick,  Steve,  put  your  sleeve  in  my  teeth 
and  pull ! '  But  of  course  I  did  n't.  His 
fingers  quivered  and  slipped,  and  I  saw  he 
could  hardly  hold  on,  so  I  shook  my  head  — 
like  that  —  to  say  I  would  n't." 

He  paused  as  if  the  tale  were  ended, 
studying  the  knuckles  of  his  left  hand,  —  an 
action  which  Dr.  Thorne  had  learned  to  rec 
ognize  as  an  indication  of  embarrassment. 

"Go  on,"  he  said  gently.  "Tell  us 
everything,  Stephen." 

Looking  down,  then  up,  and  rubbing  the 
back  of  his  hand  across  his  forehead,  the 
narrator  showed  signs  of  agitation,  the  first 
during  the  interview. 

"  His  face  was  awful  white,  and  he  looked 
at  me  hard  —  scared  and  mad  both  —  and 
kind  of  whispered,  for  his  voice  wouldn't 
come." 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

Stephen  hesitated. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  You  might  as  well 
tell  us  all." 

12  177 


Gloria  Victis 

There  was  a  pause,  but  when  the  answer 
came  it  bore  an  ominous  significance  to  those 
familiar  with  Captain  Chauncey's  prediction. 

"  He  said,  c  So  you  are  a  murderer  ! '  " 

This  swift  fulfilment  of  a  heartless  proph 
ecy  brought  a  chill  of  awe  to  Aunt  Lorinda. 
With  a  new  terror  she  regarded  Stephen,  who 
turned  partly  away  and  looked  through  a  dis 
tant  window,  out  into  the  rain  beyond.  Cato, 
divining  perhaps  the  necessity  of  encourage 
ment,  licked  the  hand  that  was  nearest,  thus 
notifying  his  comrade  that  one  friend  re 
mained  whose  sentiments  were  unaltered. 

u  And  then  did  he  let  go  and  —  disap 
pear  ?  "  asked  Aunt  Lorinda,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Yes,  ma'am.  The  whole  business  was 
only  a  minute.  You  see  there  wa'  n't  any 
place  underneath  for  his  feet,  and  his  elbow 
kept  slippin'  off,  so  he — just  had  to  go." 

There  was  a  silence;  then  the  bishop  took 
a  forward  step,  folded  his  hands  behind  him, 
and  in  a  manner  not  unkind  yet  suitably 
terrifying  thus  addressed  the  malefactor, — 

"  The  enormity  of  this  crime  is  evidently 
beyond  your  present  comprehension.  You 
fail  to  realize  what  you  have  done.  If  you 
178 


Gloria  Victis 

did,  you  would  be  fleeing  from  the  haunts  of 
men  with  the  shadow  of  the  gallows  across 
your  path.  Do  you  know  the  punishment 
for  the  crime  of  murder  ?  " 

Steve,  deeply  impressed  either  by  the  words 
or  by  the  sonorousness  of  their  delivery,  had 
grown  uneasy,  and  now  looked  up  with  a  hos 
tile  frown.  But  he  did  not  answer. 

"  For  a  man,"  continued  the  bishop,  "  the 
punishment  is  death ;  for  you,  the  peni 
tentiary." 

Now,  this  boy  had  heard  of  penitentiaries, 
from  another  boy,  who  had  been  there,  and  he 
made  a  swift  resolve  never  to  enter  one  alive. 
As  for  Dr.  Thorne,  he  regretted  the  bishop's 
speech,  having  in  mind  quite  a  different  plan 
for  bringing  the  sinner  to  a  realization  of  his 
offence. 

But  the  speaker  continued, — 

"  Suppose  the  rest  of  us  should  take  it  upon 
ourselves  to  rid  the  world  of  those  against 
whom  we  had  the  slightest  grievance.  Sup 
pose  —  " 

"  But  there  was  n't  any  grievance  !  "  in 
terrupted  Steve.  "  We  were  good  enough 
friends  !  I  did  n't  do  it  for  myself  5  I  did 
179 


Gloria  Victis 

it  —  "  He  stopped,  his  glance  moving  sud 
denly  to  the  door  behind  the  bishop.  The 
others  looked  about,  and  from  Aunt  Lorinda 
came  an  exclamation,  — 

"  Bessie  !     You  here  !  " 

Standing  in  the  doorway,  pale,  one  hand 
against  her  cheek,  Bessie's  eyes  wandered 
excitedly  from  Stephen's  face  to  those  about 
her.  Taking  a  step  toward  her  father,  she 
exclaimed,  in  a  voice  scarcely  louder  than 
a  whisper,  — 

"  Can  it  be  !     Can  it  be  !  " 

Dr.  Thorne  took  one  of  her  hands  in  his. 
"  Why,  darling,  your  fingers  are  like  ice ! 
Go  back  to  your  room  for  a  time.  Steve  was 
only  telling  us  —  how  it  happened." 

"  No  !     I  heard.     It  Js  awful,  awful !  " 

She  sank  into  a  chair,  her  eyes,  red  from 
weeping,  fixed  in  terror  upon  the  face  of  her 
youthful  adorer.  Dr.  Thorne  observed  it. 
Turning  to  the  boy,  he  said  in  a  gentler 
tone, — 

"  Go  to  your  chamber,  Steve,  and  remain 
until  I  send  for  you." 

Stephen,  in  passing  near  her  as  he  left  the 
room,  stopped,  looked  somewhat  timidly  into 
1 80 


Gloria  Victis 

her  face,  and  was  about  to  speak,  when  she 
shrank  backward,  overturning  the  chair  as 
she  rose  to  her  feet.  In  so  doing  she  breathed 
a  word,  inaudibly,  and  perhaps  unconsciously, 
a  word  that  Steve  could  only  guess  at.  From 
the  movement  of  her  lips  and  what  little  he 
could  hear,  he  guessed  it  to  be  "murderer." 

Into  his  own  face  it  brought  an  expression 
which  rarely  came  there,  an  expression  of 
dismay  and  of  fading  courage.  He  lowered 
his  eyes;  then,  with  a  slight  movement  of 
the  lips,  he  left  the  room. 

There  were  callers  that  evening,  relatives 
and  friends,  and  the  hour  was  late  when  Dr. 
Thorne  retired,  having  had  no  time  for  talk 
ing  with  the  evil-doer. 

The  next  morning,  as  he  dressed,  he  went 
over  in  his  mind  the  most  effective  argu 
ments  for  this  misguided  boy.  He  fully 
realized  the  necessity  of  gentleness  and 
diplomacy. 

Knowing  this  to  be  a  crisis  in  his  guest's 

career,  he    regretted    the    bishop's    mistaken 

effort  at  intimidation  ;  and  this  regret  became 

a  sudden   apprehension  as  he  espied  a  note 

ill 


Gloria  Victis 

beneath  his  chamber  door.     Who  but  Steve 
would  place  it  there  ? 

He  picked  it  up  and  adjusted  his  glasses. 

DR.  THORNE,  —  Good  by.     I  will  not  go  to  a 
pentenshary  which  is  the  same  as  prison.     I  am 
much  obliged  to  you  for  my  nice  visit. 
Affectionately  yours, 

STEPHEN  WADSWORTH. 

The  front  door  was  found  unlocked.  He 
had  departed  either  late  at  night  or  very  early 
in  the  morning,  as  no  one  in  the  town  had  seen 
him  pass. 

The  only  positive  information  was  given 
that  evening  by  the  village  doctor.  Four 
miles  from  Lynstock,  in  the  uncertain  light 
of  early  dawn,  he  had  met  a  mud-stained  boy 
with  a  dog  following  closely  at  his  heels.  Both 
marched  with  drooping  heads  and  through  a 
soaking  rain. 


182 


IX 


the  fugitives  no  trace  was  found ;  no 
clue  whatever  save  the  misty  appari 
tion  reported  by  the  village  doctor.  Although 
the  expressman  of  a  neighboring  village  had 
noticed  a  vicious-looking  dog  as  he  hovered 
about  a  freight-train,  his  description  of  the 
boy  who  accompanied  him  was  too  indefinite 
to  be  of  value;  and  his  observations  of  the 
dog  were  only  from  a  distance,  as  he  took 
especial  care  to  avoid  a  close  acquaintance. 

To  Dr.  Thorne  this  disappearance  was  a 
serious  blow.  He  felt  the  gravest  anxiety  in 
regard  to  Stephen's  future,  knowing  well  the 
influence  of  associates  for  good  and  for  evil 
in  the  development  of  such  a  character.  But 
all  efforts  to  find  him  were  in  vain.  Days, 
weeks,  and  months  went  by,  and  brought  no 
news;  yet  the  faithful  friend  never  quite 
gave  up  the  search.  While  still  remember 
ing  and  always  on  the  watch  for  the  name  or 


Gloria  Victis 

face  of  Stephen  Wadsworth,  his  hope  grew 
fainter  as  the  years  went  by. 

Whatever  the  effects  upon  Steve  himself 
of  his  unpardonable  crime,  its  results,  as  felt 
by  others,  were  far  from  melancholy.  In 
the  home  at  Lynstock  there  came  a  perma 
nent  peace  ;  a  renewal  of  the  old  relations, 
affectionate  and  without  restraint,  that  in 
time  brought  the  color  to  Bessie's  cheeks. 
And  the  old-time  laughter  again  was  heard. 
Aunt  Lorinda,  when  alone  with  her  nephew, 
had  more  than  once  declared  that  Stephen 
was  a  messenger  from  Heaven,  and  that  she 
often  mentioned  him  in  her  prayers.  It  gave 
her  pleasure  to  repeat  a  famous  line  which 
Dr.  Thorne  had  often  quoted, — 

"Whatever  is,  is  right." 

On  one  occasion,  as  they  were  walking 
home  together  beneath  the  elms  of  Lynstock, 
she  thus  expressed  herself, — 

"  If  I  were  a  youthful  beauty  and  Alfred 
Chauncey  and  Stephen  Wadsworth  should 
present  themselves  as  suitors,  do  you  suppose 
that  I  would  hesitate  between  them  ?  " 

"Well,  I  don't  know,  Aunt  Lorinda. 
184 


Gloria  Victis 

But  I  do  know  one  thing  j  and  that  is  that 
the  one  you  did  n't  like  would  not  be  long  in 
doubt." 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  hesitate  a  minute 
between  a  highly  respectable,  cowardly,  lying, 
lazy,  domestic  bully  and  an  open-hearted 
murderer,  especially  if  he  were,  like  Stephen, 
courageous,  straightforward,  and  affectionate  ? 
Not  for  one  minute  !  " 

"Aunt  Lorinda,  you  are  hard  upon  the 
dead.  Remember,  nil  nisi  bonum" 

"  Rubbish  !  The  bad  were  no  better  for 
now  being  dead.  Would  you  hesitate  your 
self?" 

"We  are  not  called  upon  to  decide  that 
question." 

"  /  am.  And  I  know,  and  you  know,  you 
would  rather  see  Bessie  in  her  grave  than 
married  to  another  Alfred  Chauncey." 

Dr.  Thorne  made  no  reply. 

"  Whereas  Stephen,"  she  continued,  "  with 
all  his  badness,  —  and  Heaven  knows  he  was 
bad  enough  !  —  had  something  that  made  you 
side  with  him,  something  you  could  n't  help 
respecting.  You  can  admit  that^  I  suppose, 
without  endangering  your  soul  ?  " 


Gloria  Victis 

Her  nephew  smiled. 

"  Yes  ;   I  admit  that." 

His  affection  for  the  vanished  murderer, 
although  founded  upon  a  short  acquaintance, 
was  solid  and  enduring. 

But  to  Dr.  Thorne  there  came  a  trial  of  a 
somewhat  peculiar  nature,  and,  in  a  sense,  of 
his  own  creation.  It  even  threatened  to  prove 
an  obstacle  to  his  usefulness. 

Frequent  allusion,  in  his  sermons  and  in 
private  conversations,  to  the  present  comings 
of  Our  Saviour,  while  always  doubted  by  the 
majority  of  his  hearers,  was  at  first  accepted 
as  the  innocent  hallucination  of  a  poetic  but 
over-credulous  spirit.  As  years  went  on,  this 
persistent  faith  in  the  testimony  of  a  nameless 
witness  came  to  be  regarded  as  a  mental  weak 
ness  ;  and  Dr.  Thorne  discovered  by  degrees 
that,  instead  of  being  welcomed  as  the  herald 
of  a  glorious  truth,  he  had  become  an  object 
of  compassion,  and,  at  times,  of  ridicule. 
Those  whose  intimacy  justified  the  liberty 
told  him  gently  of  his  error.  And  then,  in 
duty  to  himself  and  to  his  faith,  he  announced 
that  he  himself  was  the  recipient  of  this  visit, 
—  that  when  in  doubt  whether  to  remain  with 
1 86 


Gloria  Victis 

his  parish  or  devote  his  life  to  the  criminal 
classes,  Christ  in  person  had  appeared  before 
him  and  hastened  the  decision. 

This  confession,  instead  of  satisfying  his 
friends,  had  merely  convinced  them  that  he 
himself,  and  not  the  nameless  witness  was 
the  innocent  victim  of  a  delusion;  all  the 
more  regrettable  because  of  his  splendid  at 
tainments  and  his  previous  sanity.  But  in 
this  case  as  with  many  others  the  believer's 
tenacity  —  or  conviction — was  stronger  than 
human  argument.  And  he  yielded  not. 

His  knowledge  of  the  world,  however, 
and  his  broad  experience  soon  taught  him 
that  to  persist  meant  the  ruin  of  his  use 
fulness.  Nevertheless,  in  private  when  the 
occasion  justified,  when  those  in  affliction 
would  accept  this  consolation,  he  never 
hesitated  to  impart  it. 

For  this  compulsory  silence  there  were 
compensations  in  the  happiness  of  his 
daughter.  It  was  five  or  six  years  after 
Captain  Chauncey's  death  that  Bessie  for  the 
second  time  ventured  forth  upon  the  sands  of 
matrimony.  But  between  Captain  Chauncey 
and  Mr.  Robert  Fletcher  there  was  little  re- 
187 


Gloria  Victis 

semblance.  This  second  husband  possessed 
but  a  single  fault,  —  of  domestic  import,  — 
and  even  that  was  not  his  own.  It  was  the 
nature  of  his  business.  Being  a  civil  engi 
neer,  his  absences  from  home  were  frequent, 
and  sometimes  of  long  duration.  These 
very  absences,  while  a  trial  to  the  wife,  were 
a  gain  to  Dr.  Thorne,  as  Bobbie,  the  mar 
vellous,  unexampled  grandchild,  became  in 
such  emergencies  the  companion  of  his 
grandfather.  Together  they  drove  and 
walked  and  played  ;  they  visited  museums, 
panoramas,  and  the  animals  in  the  park. 

One  eventful  afternoon  in  May,  as  they 
turned  the  corner  of  Fourth  Avenue  and 
Twenty-sixth  Street,  Bobbie  pulled  hard 
upon  the  hand  that  held  his  own,  and 
brought  his  comrade  to  a  halt. 

"  Look  !  " 

There  was  excitement  in  his  voice,  and  he 
pointed  across  the  way. 

Dr.  Thorne  looked.  His  eyes  encoun 
tered  a  colossal  pictorial  presentment,  in 
vivid  colors,  of  the  scene  within  the  build 
ing  —  as  youthful  hopes  would  have  it. 

In  the  nearest  foreground  an  elephant  en- 
til 


Gloria  Victis 

circled  with  his  trunk  a  Royal  Bengal  tiger,  and 
pressed  him  to  a  gory  death  against  his  tusks. 
A  second  tiger  lay  crushed  beneath  his  feet, 
while  a  third  had  sprung  upon  his  flanks  and 
was  crawling  upward  toward  the  undaunted 
Orientals  in  the  gold  and  crimson  howdah. 
This  episode,  ignored  by  the  other  figures  in 
its  vicinity,  had  for  its  background  an  en 
trancing  medley  of  lions  and  baby  elephants, 
of  clowns  and  Roman  races,  of  zebras, 
hippopotami,  and  giraffes ;  of  spotted  ponies, 
gigantic  anacondas,  and  tutored  pigs,  all 
apparently  on  terms  of  friendly  intimacy. 
The  air  above  was  palpitant  with  acrobats  in 
dazzling  colors,  with  human  cannon-balls, 
and  maids  in  silken  nakedness,  wingless  but 
serene. 

"  Grandpa,  do  they  do  all  those  things  ? " 
Dr.  Thorne,  knowing  that  tigers  were  ex 
pensive,  and  being  familiar  with  certain  laws 
of  gravitation,  hesitated  before  replying. 
But  no  reply  was  needed  —  at  least  from 
him. 

Beside  them  stood  a  group  of  ragamuffins, 
three  of  whom  were  even  younger  than  Bobbie. 
The  fourth  was  older, — nearly  seven,  perhaps 
189 


Gloria  Victis 

ct  Say,  Patsey,"  said  one  of  the  diminutive, 
"  it  ain't  really  just  like  that,  o'  course." 

The  older  boy,  in  a  hoarse  voice,  and  in 
pity  for  the  ignorance  of  infancy,  replied 
sententiously,  — 

u  All  what 's  in  that  picture  they  does. 
And  more  too." 

Bobbie  whispered  in  excitement : 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ?  " 

His  grandfather  nodded. 

After  another  glance  at  the  poster,  Bobbie 
looked  up  again  into  his  comrade's  face,  and 
said,  in  solemn  tones,  — 

"  I  have  never  seen  a  circus." 

His  grandfather  winced.  If  the  boy  had 
said,  "  I  have  never  tasted  food,"  the  words 
could  have  brought  no  deeper  shame.  For 
Dr.  Thorne  was  a  human  grandfather.  He 
had  not  only  been  a  boy  himself,  but  he 
remembered,  as  if  yesterday,  the  delirium  of 
his  own  first  circus. 

Bobbie  saw  his  advantage  and  followed 
it  up. 

"Let's  go!" 

Dr.  Thorne  looked  away  and  tried  to 
think.  He  had  many  things  to  do  that  after- 
190 


Gloria  Victis 

noon,  —  his  weekly  visit  to  an  old  man  at 
Avenue  A,  that  meeting  at  the  hospital  — 

"  Let 's  go  now  / "  cried  the  tempter. 
"  Yes !  oh,  yes !  There  are  people  going 
in  !  Quick  !  Let 's  hurry  !  " 

But  the  grandfather's  conscience  was  still 
awake.  No ;  he  must  be  firm.  Another 
day  would  do  as  well.  His  duty  first. 

As  this  resolve  was  made  he  looked  down 
upon  the  upturned,  eager  face.  The  eyes  were 
sparkling  with  an  irrepressible  excitement; 
also  they  seemed  upon  the  verge  of  tears, 
and  there  was  a  quivering  of  the  under  lip. 

Five  minutes  later  a  big,  benevolent  face 
with  heavy  eyelids,  appeared  at  the  little 
window  of  the  ticket-office. 

"  Have  you  two  good  seats,  rather  near  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  the  best  in  the  house." 

And  the  agent,  in  violation  of  his  usual 
custom,  shoved  along  the  tickets  before  his 
hand  was  on  the  money. 

The  seats  were  certainly  good,  but  the 
distinguished  clergyman  experienced  a  slight 
annoyance  at  finding  himself  in  the  front  row 
of  the  front  box  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
building. 

191 


Gloria  Victis 

Not  since  early  youth  had  he  seen  the 
circus,  and  now,  as  he  found  himself  once 
again  beneath  the  spell  of  sawdust  rings,  of 
trumpeting  elephants,  and  of  that  reckless, 
rejuvenating  music  that  tosses  fluffy  ladies 
into  the  enchanted  air  from  horses'  backs,  he 
felt  a  quickening  of  the  blood,  a  revival  of 
boyish  interest.  And  Bobbie's  own  enthu 
siasm  was  in  itself  a  stimulant.  His  excla 
mations  of  delight  and  wonder  were  so 
frequent  and  inspiriting  that  Dr.  Thorne, 
without  realizing  it,  was  seeing  the  circus 
through  his  grandson's  eyes ;  and  both  en 
joyed  it  in  a  proper  spirit.  The  performing 
elephants,  the  clowns,  "The  Champion 
Equestrian  Acts  by  Four  Arenic  Queens," 
the  Japanese  balancers,  the  acrobats,  the  edu 
cated  donkey,  and  the  other  dazzling  delights 
were  fully  appreciated  by  the  boy  of  six  and 
by  his  comrade  of  sixty-nine. 

One  performance  proved  of  especial  inter 
est.  A  young  man  of  fine  physique,  accom 
panied  by  a  girl  of  twenty  or  thereabouts,  — 
she  also  in  tights,  but  with  a  muslin  fluffi- 
ness  about  the  hips  and  a  yellow  rose  in  her 
hair,  —  were  swung  high  aloft  to  the  flying 
192 


Gloria  Victis 

trapeze.  Upon  the  program  they  figured  as 
the  "  Electrifying  Bondinellis,  whose  Aerial 
Flights  at  Dizzy  Altitudes,  and  whose  hand  to 
hand  Catches  in  Space  are  the  Wonder  of 
Two  Continents." 

And  the  program  in  this  case  did  not 
exaggerate.  During  these  aerial  flights  Dr. 
Thorne  gazed  upward  in  silent  fascination, 
while  Bobbie,  in  the  intensity  of  excitement, 
forgot  to  breathe. 

This  young  man  and  girl  sailed  leisurely 
through  space  with  the  easy  confidence  of 
birds  upon  the  wing.  When  they  had  at 
tained  a  terrifying  impetus  upon  a  high 
trapeze,  he  let  go  his  hold  and  floated  up 
ward  and  away,  turned  over  in  the  air,  alfr 
to  the  dreamy  music  of  a  waltz,  and  caught, 
with  careless  ease,  an  approaching  bar  that 
swung  to  meet  him.  Then,  head  downward, 
hanging  by  his  legs,  he  swung  to  and  fro,  a 
tremendous  distance. 

The  music  stopped,  and  the  girl  in  a 
solemn  silence  shot  away  from  her  own 
trapeze. 

One  half-suppressed  scream  was  the  only 
sound  from  the  human  sea  below  them,  and 
'3  193 


Gloria  Victis 

thousands  of  straining  eyes  followed  the  fly 
ing  figure  in  its  course.  And  then,  when 
hope  seemed  lost,  when  the  error  of  a  sec 
ond's  time  meant  a  terrible  descent,  the 
strong  arms  of  the  living  pendulum  swung 
forth  to  meet  her  and  caught  the  outstretched 
hands. 

The  band  burst  forth  into  a  triumphant 
air,  and  the  vast  audience,  with  a  breath  of 
relief,  broke  out  into  a  vigorous  clapping. 

As  the  trapeze  swept  backwards  she  clam 
bered  to  the  bar,  and  there,  sitting  aloft  with 
smiling  faces,  this  empyrean  youth  and  maiden 
tossed  to  the  audience  beneath  those  volatile 
kisses  we  receive  only  from  circus-riders, 
athletes,  and  the  ladies  of  the  ballet. 

While  the  girl  returned  to  earth  by  a  rope, 
the  usual  way,  her  companion  climbed  higher 
still,  to  another  bar,  at  the  very  summit  of  the 
arching  roof.  There  he  stood  up,  and  jumped. 
Head  foremost  he  started  earthward,  and  half 
way  down  he  turned  over  twice,  not  nervously 
or  in  haste,  but  leisurely,  with  a  kind  of  bravado, 
as  if  time,  space,  and  the  laws  of  gravitation 
were  unimportant  trifles.  With  tremendous 
force  he  landed  in  the  net  upon  his  back  and 
194 


Gloria  Victis 

bounded  upward  over  a  dozen  feet.  The 
second  time  he  landed  on  his  legs,  clambered 
to  the  edge,  and  lowered  himself  jauntily  to 
the  ground.  Here  he  rejoined  the  girl. 
Then  followed  more  applause,  and  in  return 
more  finger-tip  kisses  were  tossed  to  the 
audience,  which,  instead  of  being  far  beneath, 
now  towered  above  them. 

In  stepping  from  the  centre  of  the  arena, 
this  dauntless  couple,  to  avoid  a  flurry  of  in 
coming  horses,  approached  within  fifty  feet  of 
Dr.  Thorne.  He  was  watching  them  closely, 
indulging  in  a  hasty  speculation  as  to  the  rare 
mental  and  muscular  outfit  demanded  in  so 
hazardous  a  vocation. 

The  youth,  after  carelessly  scanning,  as 
he  walked,  the  countless  throng  that  arose 
in  tiers  before  them,  met  the  gaze  that 
was  fixed  intently  upon  him.  Both  faces 
brightened  with  a  sudden  recognition.  Dr. 
Thorne  straightened  up  and  leaned  slightly 
forward. 

Yes  !  There  was  no  mistake.  The  honest 
eyes  of  Stephen  Wadsworth  were  smiling  back 
at  him ! 

And  there  was  little  change.  Fourteen 
195 


Gloria  Victis 

years  had  simply  developed  without  altering 
either  the  contour  or  the  character  of  his  face. 
But  in  the  same  instant  he  was  gone,  ob 
scured  with  his  companion  in  a  confusion  of 
advancing  horses. 


196 


"IWHEN  Dr.  Thorne,  on  the  following 
"*  day,  returned  home  for  his  noonday 
meal,  he  discovered  that  he  had  missed  a  visit 
from  the  newly  found  Stephen.  Knowing 
there  was  a  performance  every  afternoon  and 
evening,  and  as  he  himself  was  rarely  at  home 
in  the  morning,  he  resolved  to  call  at  the 
circus.  So  about  three  o'clock  he  betook 
himself  to  the  Fourth  Avenue  end  of  the 
colossal  building.  Seeing  an  open  door 
through  which  a  groom  with  two  white 
horses  had  just  emerged,  he  entered.  But  a 
man  stepped  before  him  with  the  informa 
tion,  politely  given,  that  no  strangers  were 
admitted.  The  visitor  explained  the  object 
of  his  errand,  but  was  told  the  rules  could 
not  be  broken.  As  he  took  a  card  from  his 
pocket  to  write  a  line  for  Stephen,  a  thin, 
sallow,  black-bearded  man  stepped  forward 
and  raised  his  hat. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  Dr.  Thorne  ? " 


Gloria  Victis 

Then,  in   answer  to  an  inquiring   look,  he 
continued, 

"  You  do  not  remember  me,  Simeon 
Bassett  ? " 

"  Not  the  Reverend  Simeon  Bassett,  who 
left  for  India  to  convert  the  heathen  ? " 

u  Yes,  sir ;  the  same." 

"Well,"  said  Dr.  Thorne,  «I  never 
should  have  known  you,  Mr.  Bassett.  You 
have  grown  a  beard  since  then.  But  is  n't  it 
a  long  jump  from  the  missionary  field  to  the 
circus  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  an  easy  one.  I  found 
there  was  more  profit  and  more  peace  of 
mind  in  reforming  animals  than  in  wrestling 
with  the  contented  heathen." 

"  I  am  not  surprised." 

"  I  joined  a  company  to  furnish  wild  beasts 
for  menageries  and  —  well,  it  's  a  long  story. 
But  here  I  am,  and  I  have  been  here  for 
three  years." 

"  And  all  for  the  best,  I  have  no  doubt. 
It  may  be  hard  on  the  animals,  but  the 
heathen  should  be  grateful." 

Mr.  Bassett  smiled. 

"  Yes,   I   remember    you    said    something 
198 


Gloria  Victis 

like  that  at  the  time.  But  I  was  younger 
then,  and  bound  to  go.  Some  of  us  are 
slower  than  others  in  learning  to  respect 
other  people's  opinions.  But  is  there  any. 
thing  I  can  do  for  you  here  ?  Did  you 
want  to  come  in  ?  " 

When  Dr.  Thorne  told  his  errand,  the  ex- 
missionary,  who  appeared  to  be  a  person  in 
authority,  led  him  inside,  begged  him  to  make 
himself  at  home,  to  come  and  go  as  he 
pleased,  and  to  remain  as  long  as  necessary. 
Then,  excusing  himself,  as  his  duties  called 
him  below  among  the  animals,  he  took  his 
leave. 

Dr.  Thorne,  as  he  glanced  about,  could 
easily  have  believed  himself  in  a  waiting- 
room  of  the  Circus  Maximus,  twenty  centu 
ries  ago.  The  space  itself,  large,  irregular, 
with  a  high  ceiling,  was  the  area  enclosed  by 
the  outer  corners  of  the  building  and  the 
long,  curving  wall  of  the  amphitheatre.  A 
high  archway  opened  into  the  arena.  Two 
solid  gates  closed  the  lower  portion,  but 
above  these  could  be  seen  the  audience  tower 
ing  tier  above  tier,  the  countless  faces  bathed 
in  a  soft,  warm  light  diffused  by  the  canvas 
199 


Gloria  Victis 

awnings  high  above.      Music,  laughter,  and 
applause,  with   the    snapping   of  whips   and 
occasional    shouts    of  performers    were    dis 
tinctly  heard,  while  around  him  on  every  side 
moved  figures   in    strange    attire,  —  athletes, 
who   might    have    been    gladiators   from   the 
Colosseum ;  two  drivers  in  the  chariot  races, 
whom  he  took  at  first  for  Roman  matrons  j  a 
man  in  a  scarlet  tunic,  a  fillet  about  his  head  ; 
ladies  of  shimmering  limbs  and  scant  attire, 
at  home    on  the   bareback   horses ;    clowns, 
acrobats,  and    others,   all   strolling   about  or 
standing  in  groups.     A  few,  encased  in  ample 
wrappers,   always   of  the   most  vivid   colors, 
moved   here  and    there  as   in   the    Baths  of 
Caracalla.     Some  were  chatting   and  laugh 
ing,  others  practising  their  tricks  or  limber 
ing  their  muscles.      And  to  his  left,  drawn 
up  in    line   against   the  wall,  stood    Roman 
chariots,  one  of  crimson,  one  of  white,  and 
one  of  yellow,  all  with  golden  trimmings. 

As  he  moved  toward  the  arch,  he  was 
startled  by  an  unfamiliar  object  close  beside 
him,  the  pretty  face  of  a  girl,  "  The  Cham 
pion  Female  Contortionist,  La  Belle  Zedora," 
in  tights,  her  supple  form  bent  backward  in  a 
200 


Gloria  Victis 

circle  ;  and  she  looked  pleasantly  up  at  him 
from  between  her  lavender  legs.  In  mild 
astonishment  he  halted  at  this  uncommon 
spectacle,  and  as  he  did  so  the  two  heavy 
gates  were  opened  wide. 

A  band  of  actors  for  the  high  trapeze, 
some  jugglers,  and  a  bevy  of  clowns  skipped 
out  and  away,  and  a  pair  of  huge  white 
horses  guided  by  a  man  in  a  yellow  tunic 
with  silver  bands,  a  foot  on  either  steed, 
dashed  out  into  the  arena.  He  was  fol 
lowed  by  another  rider  in  different  colors, 
on  a  similar  pair.  And  before  the  gates 
were  closed  a  troop  of  performers  came  run 
ning  in,  athletes  and  tumblers  in  the  gayest 
tints,  some  tight-rope  dancers,  and  a  comic 
family  in  evening  dress  :  these,  closely  fol 
lowed  by  liveried  servants  of  the  circus  bear 
ing  three  gigantic  rolls  of  carpet  just  taken 
from  the  rings. 

These  rolls  of  carpet  were  deposited  near 
the  wall ;  and  upon  one  of  them  Dr.  Thorne 
found  a  comfortable  seat  upon  which  to  wait 
for  Stephen. 

Close  beside  him  a  clown  in  grotesquely 
ample  robes,  black  with  orange  stars  and 
201 


Gloria  Victis 

crescents,  as  he  fondled  the  ears  of  the 
educated  pig  was  arguing  earnestly  with 
"Miss  Leonie  Latour,  the  Living  Arrow." 
A  short  distance  from  the  closed  gates,  just 
far  enough  away  to  see  above  them,  was 
gathered  a  group  of  acrobats,  some  in  pink, 
others  in  blue  or  white  or  lavender  tights, 
watching  the  performance  on  the  high  tra 
peze. 

A  flood  of  light,  and  it  seemed  to  Dr. 
Thorne  a  flood  of  music,  also,  came  down 
through  the  arch  and  enveloped  this  brilliant 
company.  From  two  or  three  came  a  mut 
tered  "  Ah  !  "  and  a  deep-chested,  solid  little 
man,  in  creamy  tights  with  a  waist-cloth  of 
emerald  green,  added,  — 

"  Yes,  and  he  missed  it  yesterday  too." 

A  moment  later,  from  the  wild  haste  of 
the  music  and  the  shouts  beyond  the  gates, 
the  visitor  knew  that  the  four  white  horses 
with  their  standing  riders  were  having  a 
tumultuous  finish  to  their  race  around  the 
long  arena. 

As  he  sat  watching  this  scene,  so  novel 
that  it  seemed  unreal,  he  partook  involunta 
rily  of  its  spirit,  —  of  its  freedom,  its  brilliant 
202 


Gloria  Yictis 

colors,  and  its  repressed  excitement.  The 
music,  headlong,  uplifting,  and  incessant,  pre 
vented  any  return  to  earth,  and  dispelled,  for 
a  time  at  least,  all  memories  of  his  ordinary 
life.  Even  the  errand  that  brought  him  here 
was  driven  to  the  background. 

Beside  the  long,  curving  wall  that  divided 
this  assembly-room  from  the  arena,  he  no 
ticed  three  figures  as  they  came  toward  him,  — 
a  woman  in  a  riding-habit  with  a  scarlet 
jacket ;  another  woman,  slight,  with  delicate 
features  and  dressed  in  black;  and  between 
them  a  girl  enveloped  in  a  bright-colored 
wrap,  such  as  many  of  the  circus  women 
threw  about  them  when  not  performing. 
These  wraps  were  long  and  loose,  completely 
covering  the  figure,  and  generally  of  a  bril 
liant  color. 

The  girl,  a  little  below  the  usual  height, 
with  black  hair  and  a  low  forehead,  had  a 
wide,  short,  juvenile  face.  Her  eyes  were 
dark  and  far  apart.  To  the  observant 
philosopher  upon  the  roll  of  carpet  it  was  an 
attractive  face,  and  one  that  aroused  his  inter 
est.  She  seemed  Italian  or  Spanish  —  some 
thing  not  American.  But  as  they  came 
203 


Gloria  Victis 

nearer  he  found  that  she  was  speaking  Eng 
lish  fluently  and  without  the  slightest  accent. 
At  the  present  moment  she  and  the  scarlet 
equestrienne  were  laughing  merrily,  while  the 
older  woman  smiled  in  a  perfunctory  way, 
more  from  a  sense  of  duty  than  from  any 
inward  pressure. 

It  seemed  to  Dr.  Thorne  he  had  seen  this 
girl  before.  A  moment  later  he  thought  he 
recognized  her  as  the  person  who  accom 
panied  Stephen  in  his  celestial  excursions. 
Regarding  her  more  carefully,  he  began  to  be 
sure  of  it.  There,  too,  was  the  yellow  rose 
in  her  hair  he  had  noticed  yesterday. 

As  they  came  nearer,  she  laid  a  hand  on  the 
older  woman's  arm,  and,  indicating  the  other 
end  of  the  carpet  upon  which  he  was  sitting, 
said  in  a  pleasant  voice,  — 

"  Sit  there,  mamma,  and  don't  get  so  tired 
as  you  did  yesterday." 

In  doing  this,  the  front  of  the  yellow 
wrap  was  opened,  and  he  saw  that  she  was 
in  tights. 

Nodding  his  massive  head  in  acquiescence, 
Dr.  Thorne  returned  the  smile  with  which 
her  eyes  met  his,  and  edged  farther  along. 
204 


Gloria  Victis 

By  a  movement  of  the  head  and  another 
smile,  simple  and  friendly,  she  thanked  him  j 
then,  after  a  word  or  two  with  her  mother, 
she  and  her  companion  turned  away  and  con 
tinued  their  walk. 

He  noticed,  as  he  studied  her  with  increas 
ing  interest,  that  her  eyes  were  continually 
wandering  toward  a  little  staircase  in  a  dis 
tant  corner.  This  staircase,  he  decided, 
from  occasional  male  performers  who  de 
scended  it,  led  to  the  men's  dressing-room 
above.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  travel  in  that 
direction  of  their  own  accord,  and  he  be 
lieved  that  she  would  have  been  exceedingly 
surprised,  and  perhaps  embarrassed,  had  she 
known  that  a  casual  observer  detected  the 
eagerness  of  her  watch. 

Moreover,  this  casual  observer,  being  some 
what  imaginative,  wove  a  little  romance. 

She  was  in  love  with  Stephen  !  Of  course! 
How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  When  a  girl  is 
launched  into  space  twice  a  day  with  Death 
below,  and  invariably  rescued  by  an  adoring 
youth  who  never  fails  her,  what  other  result 
could  be  expected  ?  And  he,  cool,  brave, 
with  arms  of  iron  —  and  always  there  !  She 
205 


Gloria  Victis 

knew  —  probably  —  that  he  would  rather  miss 
a  bar  himself  than  be  late  at  that  aerial 
rendezvous. 

As  for  Stephen's  loving  her,  why,  the  cool 
observer  himself  was  gently  smitten,  and 
merely  from  sitting  here  and  watching  her. 

Belief  in  this  romance  of  his  own  con 
struction  was  strengthened  by  a  look  that 
came  at  last  into  the  heroine's  face.  As  her 
glance  for  the  twentieth  time  wandered  fur 
tively  toward  the  stairs,  there  came  a  sudden 
brightening  of  the  eyes,  as  if  illumined  by  a 
welcome  message;  a  smile,  a  familiar  nod, 
and  Dr.  Thorne,  turning  his  own  eyes  in 
the  same  direction,  saw  without  surprise  the 
expected  Stephen. 

The  young  man,  in  pink  tights,  a  dark 
blue  wrapper  tossed  carelessly  over  his  arm, 
strode  with  the  swinging,  half-clumsy  gait  of 
the  professional  athlete  toward  the  approaching 
figures.  The  promise  of  a  splendid  physique 
given  in  his  boyhood  by  the  compensating 
Providence  had  been  faithfully  fulfilled.  His 
straight,  full  neck,  deep  chest,  and  muscular 
limbs  gave  evidence  of  uncommon  strength. 
With  the  Acropolis  for  a  background,  he 
206 


Gloria  Victis 

would  easily  have  passed  at  the  present  mo 
ment  for  some  Olympian  hero.  His  face, 
except  that  his  chin  and  jaw  were  a  trifle 
fuller,  seemed  but  little  changed;  and  with  his 
greeting  to  his  friends  came  the  same  frank, 
friendly  smile  that  Dr.  Thorne  had  first  en 
countered  in  the  little  cemetery,  fourteen 
years  ago,  that  Sunday  morning  when  they 
shook  hands  upon  a  bargain. 

As  the  three  were  standing  together,  —  the 
scarlet  equestrienne,  the  girl  in  her  yellow 
wrap,  and  the  athlete  in  his  shimmering  silken 
tights,  —  the  ponderous  visitor,  a  sombre  con 
trast  in  his  every-day  black,  approached  the 
gorgeous  trio,  and  touched  the  gladiator  upon 
the  arm. 

"  Stephen  Wadsworth  ?  " 

The  young  man  turned.  His  face  lit  up, 
and  he  seized  the  extended  hand. 

"  Why,  Dr.  Thorne  !  " 

Then  followed  expressions  of  surprise  and 
pleasure,  with  many  questions. 

The  two  women  backed  away  and  con 
tinued  their  walk.  Dr.  Thorne  looked  ear 
nestly  into  the  clear  gray  eyes,  now  nearly  on 
a  level  with  his  own ;  and  he  found  they  told 
207 


Gloria  Victis 

the  same  old  tale  of  purity  and  truth,  of  child 
like  confidence  and  incorruptible  honor.  He 
wondered  if  they  were  still  misleading,  and 
into  what  paths  of  vice  or  virtue  their  owner's 
peculiar  morals  had  caused  him  to  travel. 

"  And  now  tell  me  of  yourself,  Stephen. 
You  would  not  believe  me  if  I  should  say 
how  often  I  have  thought  of  you.  Have  you 
been  a  good  boy  or  a  bad  boy  ?  Tell  me  the 
truth.  You  know  you  can  trust  me." 

"  Indeed  I  do ! "  and  Stephen  began  a 
rapid  history  of  his  career. 

But  the  whole  space  was  now  filling  up 
with  mounted  huntsmen  in  top  hats  and 
scarlet  coats,  they  and  their  horses  crowding 
every  one  against  the  wall.  So  the  two 
friends  walked  away  along  by  the  wall,  and 
Stephen  told  of  his  stealing  a  ride  on  a 
train,  and  of  his  joining  a  travelling  circus, 
three  days  after  leaving  Lynstock  ;  of  how 
he  and  two  other  boys  were  taught  somer 
saults,  the  high  trapeze,  forming  pyramids, 
and  various  things  5  that  he  did  this  for  four 
or  five  years.  Then  for  a  time  he  gave  up 
the  circus,  but  took  it  up  again  when  he  met 
Filippa. 

208 


Gloria  Victis 

«  Filippa  ?     Who  is  that  ?  " 

u  She  is  the  girl  I  act  with.  You  must 
have  seen  her.  She  was  talking  with  me  just 
now." 

u  Indeed  I  did  !  And  a  most  attractive 
little  person !  How  long  have  you  known 
her  ? " 

"  Oh,  two  years,  about." 

"  Are  you  —  is  she  —  you  are  not  mar 
ried  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

There  was  a  silence;  Stephen  evidently 
hesitating,  but  with  something  to  impart. 
Then,  as  they  turned  about  to  return,  he 
stopped  and  said  earnestly, — 

"  I  want  to  marry  Filippa,  but  her  mother 
won't  let  us." 

"  Why  not  ?     Does  n't  she  like  you  ?  " 

"  No,  she  hates  me." 

u  Why  so,  Stephen  ?  What  have  you 
done  ? " 

"  Nothing.  She  gives  no  reason,  only  says 
she  does  n't  trust  me." 

"  Is  Filippa  willing  ?  " 

«  Oh,  yes  !     Filippa  's  all  right !  " 

Their  eyes  met  and  both  smiled.  The 
14  209 


Gloria  Victis 

older  man  saw,  in  the  younger  one's  face, 
the  same  outward  manifestation  of  an  in 
ward  content  that  he  had  observed  in  the 
maiden  a  very  few  minutes  before. 

"  Well,  it 's  too  bad  the  parent  is  unwilling. 
Are  you  sure  she  has  no  reason  for  it  ?  What 
were  you  doing  the  three  years  you  were  out 
of  the  circus  business  ?  " 

The  lover  hesitated. 

"  But  she  has  no  idea  of  what  I  was  doing 
then." 

"  Very  likely,  but  what  were  you  doing  ?  " 

There  was  another  silence,  during  which 
Stephen  looked  down  and  picked  at  the  band 
of  silver  lace  about  his  wrist. 

"  Come,  tell  me !  Perhaps  I  may  help 
you  in  this  business.  I  certainly  will  if  I 
can." 

The  youth  straightened  up  eagerly. 

"  Perhaps  you  can !  You  might  bring  her 
round ! " 

"  But  I  must  first  know  the  man  I  am  to 
bring  her  round  to ; "  and  the  big  brown  face 
with  the  half-closed  eyes  moved  slowly  with 
a  negative  shake. 

"  Well,  sir,  if  you  remember,  you  made  me 
210 


Gloria  Victis 

promise  that  I  would  never  steal  again.  It 
was  after  I  took  the  cook's  money." 

"Yes,  I  remember." 

"  I  have  kept  that  promise.  I  have  never 
stolen  a  thing  since  that  day ;  "  and  he  raised 
his  face  with  a  half-defiant  movement,  as  if 
prepared  to  have  the  statement  doubted. 

"  I  believe  you,  Stephen,"  was  the  quiet 
answer. 

"When  I  was  dead  broke  and  I  needed 
money,  I  fell  foul  of  an  old  pal  of  dad's  who 
shoved  the  queer  —  that  is  —  counterfeit 
money." 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  He  made  it,  and  I  shoved  it.  But  it 
was  n't  stealing." 

"  No,  not  literally,  perhaps,  but  too  near  it 
for  moral  comfort.  You  took  what  did  n't 
belong  to  you  every  time  you  passed  it." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  know  that,  but  I  had  big 
temptations  to  break  my  promise  literally,  as 
you  say.  I  never  did,  though." 

Dr.  Thorne  laid  his  hand  on  Stephen's 
shoulder. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said  gently,  "  I  am  not 
blaming  you,  for  I  can  guess  at  your  tempta- 
211 


Gloria  Victis 

tions.  I  know  the  obstacles  you  had  to  over 
come,  and  your  regard  for  your  promise  is 
greatly  to  your  honor.  How  long  is  it  since 
you  have  '  shoved  the  queer  '  ?  " 

"  Not  since  I  promised  Filippa." 

"  Ah !  Then  you  told  Filippa  every 
thing  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  everything." 

u  And  still  she  is  willing  to  marry  you  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  And  that  temper,  —  have  you  outgrown 
it  ? " 

Stephen's  face  became  serious.  He  replied 
in  a  melancholy  tone  and  there  was  a  note  of 
despair,  — 

"  No  ;  I  suppose  I  never  shall." 

Dr.  Thorne  looked  gravely  into  his  friend's 
eyes.  "  Have  you  told  her  that  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  The  whole  truth  about  it,  —  of  how 
sudden,  unreliable,  and  dangerous  it  is  ?  " 

"  Yes,  everything." 

"  And  even  that  makes  no  difference  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  not  a  bit." 

Dr.  Thorne  compressed  his  lips  and  looked 
thoughtfully  away. 

212 


Gloria  Victis 

"  How  foolish  women  are !  "  he  muttered. 

The  lover  smiled,  straightened  up,  and 
folded  his  arms  across  his  chest. 

"  But  I  am  just  as  foolish.  Nothing 
could  prevent  my  marrying  her^  either !  " 

"  Nothing  that  she  could  do,  however 
bad  ? " 

"  No,  sir  j  nothing !  " 

His  companion  sighed.  "  Youth  and 
faith,  —  what  splendid  things  they  are  !  " 

As  they  started  on,  there  came  from  the 
distant  band  a  sudden  pause;  then,  from 
around  the  curving  wall,  a  din  as  of  in 
numerable  hammers,  and  again  burst  forth 
the  music,  louder  and  faster  than  before. 

«  What  is  all  that,  Stephen  ?  " 

u  Those  hurdle-jumpers  that  we  just  left. 
At  a  signal  they  all  start  at  once ;  the  horses 
know  the  signal  and  get  excited.  That 
racket  is  their  shoes  on  the  wooden  floor." 

"  Ah,  yes,  to  be  sure  !  But  tell  me  how  it 
is  that,  loving  this  girl  and  having,  presumably, 
some  regard  for  her  safety,  you  can  take  her 
to  crazy  altitudes  and  induce  her  to  throw 
herself  into  the  arms  of  death  ?  Of  course 
you  know,  and  perhaps  better  than  I  do,  that 
213 


Gloria  Victis 

the  slightest  error,  if  it  failed  to  kill,  would 
cripple  her  for  life." 

"No,  the  net  is  beneath;  and,  besides,  I 
shall  never  miss  her." 

The  serenity  and  confidence  with  which 
this  was  uttered  filled  the  older  man  with  a 
secret  admiration.  He  looked  again  at  the 
arms  with  bulging  muscles,  the  full  neck  and 
chest,  and  the  virile,  somewhat  lordly  stride. 
Had  Stephen  been  his  own  son,  his  pride  and 
interest,  his  sense  of  responsibility  and  feel 
ing  of  proprietorship,  could  hardly  have  been 
greater. 

"  And  besides,"  added  the  gladiator,  turn 
ing  toward  him  with  a  more  mirthful  smile, 
"  it  is  my  one  way  of  circumventing  the  old 
lady.  She  won't  let  me  come  near  Filippa, 
and  these  are  the  only  times  we  are  alone 
together.  We  do  all  our  talking  and  — 
and  love-making  up  in  the  air.  No  one  can 
overhear  us,  and  to  hold  her  hand  is  part  of 
the  performance." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  in  the  midst  of 

that    life-and-death  business  you   are  billing 

and    cooing  ?       Demented    children !      You 

ought  to  have  a  guardian  !  Is  n't  there  some 

214 


Gloria  Victis 

reliable  old   chaperone  to  go  up  there  with 
you  ?  " 

The  lover  laughed, —  a  triumphant  chuckle. 

"  No,  there  are  none  to  be  had ;  but  Mrs. 
Zabarelli  would  like  to  go  up  there  herself 
mighty  well ! " 

The  older  man  shook  his  head. 

"  Don't  get  careless  because  you  can  do  it 
easily." 

They  found  Mrs.  Zabarelli  with  Filippa  by 
her  side,  still  sitting  upon  the  roll  of  carpet. 

The  two  women  arose  as  Stephen  pre 
sented  his  friend.  Dr.  Thorne  was  of  a 
type  rarely  seen  about  the  dressing-rooms  of 
this  or  of  any  other  circus,  and  both  mother 
and  daughter  regarded  him  with  a  feeling  of 
awe.  But  this  visitor,  from  his  life  of  pro 
miscuous  benevolence,  had  been  for  years 
familiar  with  every  grade  of  society.  His 
manner  was  genial,  and  sufficiently  familiar 
to  remove  whatever  constraint  his  clerical 
air  and  imposing  presence  might  at  first 
produce. 

"  Stephen  and  I  are  very  old  friends,  and 
are  naturally  very  glad  to  meet  again." 

And  his  glance  went  from  mother  to  daugh- 
215 


Gloria  Victis 

ter  with  a  smile  which  included  all  in  the 
pleasure  of  reunion.  Filippa  returned  his  smile 
with  one  yet  warmer  and  more  trusting. 

As  he  looked  down  into  the  wide,  short 
face,  and  into  the  eyes  that  met  his  own 
with  a  simple  confidence,  half  timidly  yet 
without  embarrassment,  he  tried  to  remem 
ber  what  familiar  picture  she  recalled.  Was 
it  some  Italian  portrait,  or  was  it  his  photo 
graph  of  a  contadina  ?  Or  that  woman  in 
yellow  by  Luca  Giordano?  Or  could  it  be, 
after  all,  the  Sistine  Madonna  ?  However, 
his  heart  went  out  to  her,  this  cheerful,  acro 
batic  inamorata  of  his  newly  recovered  friend. 
One  look  into  her  face  left  little  doubt  of  an 
affectionate  nature  and  a  sunny  disposition. 
When  she  smiled,  her  whole  face  responded, 
the  eyebrows  lifting  themselves  further  from 
the  eyes  and  taking  additional  curves.  Her 
mouth  was  not  large  in  repose,  but  expanded 
when  she  laughed  and  showed  two  rows  of 
very  white  and  even  teeth.  There  was 
something  deferential  in  her  manner,  which 
at  the  same  time  gave  the  impression  that 
she  was  waiting  patiently  for  an  excuse  for 
mirth. 

216 


Gloria  Victis 

Dr.  Thorne  became  soon  convinced  that 
she  was  a  frank,  reasonable,  high-minded  little 
person,  and  that  her  influence  over  Stephen 
must  be  greatly  for  his  good. 

In  figure  she  was  slight,  although  with  a 
certain  plumpness,  and  her  sloping  shoulders 
were  well  rounded.  He  observed  that  her 
bare  arms,  whenever  they  appeared  from  be 
neath  the  yellow  wrapper,  were  also  plump. 

She  endeavored,  as  they  stood  talking  to 
gether,  to  conceal  her  interest  in  the  admiring 
Stephen ;  and  he  also  at  times,  as  is  the  habit 
of  lovers,  overshot  the  mark  and  made 
clumsy,  transparent  efforts  to  ignore  the  ex 
istence  of  the  being  who  was  of  more  import 
ance  to  him  than  sun,  earth,  air,  or  food. 
But  the  heavy-faced  visitor  saw  more  than 
his  friends  suspected.  He  observed  from 
beneath  the  slumbrous  eyelids  various  subtle 
interchanges,  certain  contacts  of  elbows  pro 
longed  and  seemingly  accidental,  and  occa 
sional  postponed  avowals,  which  he  knew 
would  soon  be  uttered  on  the  high  trapeze. 

After  a  moment's  conversation,  and  when 
the  constraint  caused  by  an  ecclesiastical  pres 
ence  had  been  dispelled,  Filippa,  with  her 
217 


Gloria  Victis 

head  a  trifle  on  one  side,  and  with  a  thought 
ful  expression,  said,  — 

"  If  you  knew  Stephen  fourteen  years  ago, 
he  must  have  been  a  little  boy." 

u  Yes,  he  was  a  boy,  but  not  so  very  little. 
He  was  eleven  years  old." 

"  Was  he  an  interesting  boy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  come,  Filippa  !  What  a  silly  ques 
tion  ! "  and  the  young  man  frowned  and 
drew  back  a  step. 

"  Well,  yes,"  was  answered  in  a  serious 
tone.  "  Yes,  he  was  interesting.  But,  of 
course,  he  was  bad.  All  boys  are  that." 

"  Was  he  very  bad  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  And  it  was  a  good  kind  of 
bad,  not  a  bad  bad,  —  not  a  vicious  kind 
of  badness.  And  so  we  never  quarrelled, 
and  we  had  perfect  confidence  in  each 
other."  * 

As  Filippa  turned  a  triumphant  glance 
toward  her  mother,  Stephen  nodded  assent, 
but  added,  — 

"There  's  no  doubt  of  my  confidence  in 
you,  sir,  but  I  don't  see  how  you  could  have 
had  much  in  me." 

Dr.  Thorne,  looking  down  into  the  face 
218 


Gloria  Victis 

that  suggested  so  many  Italian  resemblances, 
now  upturned  with  the  warmest  interest  to 
his  own,  said,  — 

"And  I  am  forced  to  admit  that  I  believe 
his  virtues  are  many  times  greater  than  his 
faults." 

There  was  pleasure  in  Filippa's  eyes  as 
these  words  were  uttered,  and  she  turned 
them  with  a  childish  pride  upon  the  embar 
rassed  youth.  He  thereupon,  with  a  little 
color  in  his  face,  appeared  absorbed  in  the 
contemplation  of  his  knuckles.  She  reached 
forth  and  drew  this  hand  toward  her,  straight 
ening  out  the  little  ringer.  Upon  it  was  a 
plain  gold  ring. 

"Look  at  that,  Dr.  Thorne ! "  she  ex 
claimed.  "  He  has  worn  this  ring  for  years, 
and  now  he  can't  get  it  off.  He  will  surely 
have  trouble  with  it,  won't  he  ?  Can't  you 
persuade  him  ? " 

"  Persuade  him !  I  will  resort  to  brute 
force  if  necessary.  What  is  it  you  wish  ?  " 

"  I  want  him  to  have  that  ring  taken  off. 
His  finger  is  in  a  horrid  condition.  Just 
look  at  it  !  Don't  you  think  it  ought  to 
come  off?" 

219 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Certainly  I  do.  The  flesh  is  inflamed. 
What  is  the  matter  with  it,  Stephen  ? " 

u  Oh,  nothing  !  I  scratched  my  finger  the 
other  day,  that  's  all,  and  the  ring  is  tight." 

"  Tight  !  I  should  say  it  was  !  Why,  it 
is  almost  out  of  sight !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Filippa,  "  and  it  is  getting 
worse  every  day !  He  has  a  silly  super 
stition  against  removing  it.  Do  talk  to 
him  ! " 

"  Seriously,  Stephen,"  said  Dr.  Thorne, 
looking  closely  at  the  finger,  "  I  really  think 
it  is  a  question  of  having  either  the  ring  or 
your  finger  taken  off.  I  should  n't  trifle  with 
it,  if  I  were  you.  Why  do  you  hesitate  ?  " 

Stephen  withdrew  the  hand,  and  answered 
after  a  silence, — 

"  My  father  gave  it  to  me  years  ago,  just 
before  I  turned  up  at  Lynstock,  and  told  me 
never  to  take  it  off.  I  have  only  done  it 
once,  when  I  had  the  ring  made  bigger ; 
and  this  little  scratch  I  thought  would  heal 
of  itself." 

"  But  you  can  have  the  ring  enlarged  and 
put  on  another  finger.     It  may   be  a  serious 
matter  if  neglected.      Take  my  advice  and 
220 


Gloria  Victis 

don't  trifle  with  it.     Consult  a  doctor  if  you 
are  in  doubt,  and  see  what  he  says." 

"  All  right,  sir  ;  I  will  attend  to  it." 

"  But  when  ?  "  asked  Filippa,  with  a  frown 
and  a  solemn  shake  of  the  head.  "  You 
have  said  that  before,  you  foolish  boy,  but 
you  never  do  anything." 

"  Attend  to  it  this  afternoon  after  the  per 
formance,"  said  Dr.  Thorne. 

Stephen  hesitated. 

"  Come,  give  me  your  hand,  and  promise 
on  your  honor  that  you  will  have  it  taken  off 
to-day." 

Stephen  laid  his  hand  in  the  extended  palm, 
and  replied,  — 

"  All  right,  sir;  I  promise." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Filippa,  looking  up 
into  the  clergyman's  face  ;  u  I  should  n't  won 
der  if  you  had  saved  his  finger.  He  has  been 
very  horrid  about  it,  just  obstinate ; "  and 
with  a  reproving  look  she  laid  a  very  small 
fist  upon  Stephen's  chest.  From  the  char 
acter  of  the  smile  with  which  the  trapezist 
looked  down  into  Filippa's  face,  the  visitor 
suspected  that  had  the  lovers  been  alone,  the 
scene  would  have  ended  with  less  formality. 
221 


Gloria  Victis 

Stephen  evidently  felt  that  some  explana 
tion  was  required,  for  he  added,  — 

"  I  don't  know  as  my  father  really  thought 
the  ring  could  bring  good  luck,  but  I  remem 
ber  distinctly  his  telling  me  never  to  take  it 
off;  and  I  wanted  to  do  as  he  said." 

"Which  is  a  good  sentiment,"  said  Dr. 
Thorne  ;  "  but  I  am  sure  —  " 

At  this  point  the  gates  beside  them  were 
thrown  wide  apart,  the  environing  space  again 
was  flooded  with  light  and  music,  and  the 
acrobats,  clowns,  Japanese  jugglers,  and  vari 
ous  performers  who  had  been  hovering  idly 
about,  started  forth  into  the  arena,  a  medley 
of  brilliant  colors. 

Filippa,  with  a  slight  change  of  color,  — 
for  appearing  in  her  own  limbs  at  close  quar 
ters  before  such  a  person  as  Dr.  Thorne  was 
a  new  experience,  —  threw  off  the  yellow 
wrap  and  gave  it  to  her  mother ;  Stephen 
tossed  his  own  to  one  of  the  attendants ;  then 
both,  with  a  hasty  adieu,  joined  the  glittering 
throng  and  tripped  through  the  archway,  out 
into  the  glare  and  music. 

Dr.  Thorne  caught  a  sudden  glimpse  — 
impressive,  almost  unreal  —  of  countless 
222 


Gloria  Victis 

faces  rising  one  above  another.  He  heard 
the  cracking  of  whips  and  the  clapping  of 
hands ;  then  dozens  of  horses  with  riders  in 
scarlet  coats  —  men,  women,  and  children  — 
came  clattering  through  the  opening  with  a 
tremendous  pounding  of  iron  shoes  upon  the 
floor.  The  gates  as  suddenly  closed,  and  again 
there  was  calmness.  And  again  the  visitor  ad 
mired  the  system  and  the  quiet  order  which 
governed  every  detail  of  the  exhibition.  The 
riders  dismounted,  the  horses  were  led  below, 
and  once  more  the  space  before  the  Roman 
chariots  was  comparatively  vacant. 

Finding  himself  alone  beside  the  slender 
woman  in  black,  he  resolved  to  ascertain  the 
real  state  of  her  feelings  and  to  say  a  word 
for  Stephen.  This  second  resolve  was  not 
sanctioned  by  his  conscience,  as  he  felt  that 
his  own  personal  liking  was  no  equivalent  for 
the  moral  deficiencies  of  his  friend,  nor  a 
reason  for  inducing  any  mother  to  select  him 
as  a  son-in-law.  No  one  knew  better  than 
Dr.  Thorne  that  Stephen,  while  of  interest 
as  a  psychological  study  and  the  possessor  of 
admirable  qualities,  was  not  a  suitor  to  meet 
the  approval  of  a  dutiful  parent. 
223 


Gloria  Victis 

And  what  daughter,  not  blinded  by  love, 
would  put  her  trust  in  one  who  had  inherited 
a  constitutional  inability  to  discern  right  from 
wrong,  with  whom  morality,  as  an  abstract 
force,  did  not  exist,  and  whose  rage  was  not 
only  entirely  beyond  his  own  control  but  of 
a  murderous  quality  ?  Yet  she  existed,  and 
he  believed  her  a  woman  not  only  of  the 
purest  character  but  of  fine  perceptions. 

Mrs.  Zabarelli,  slight  of  figure,  and  all  in 
black,  with  Filippa's  yellow  wrap  across  her 
arm,  stood  leaning  against  the  wall  as  one 
who  finds  any  support  a  relief.  She  was  a 
delicate  woman,  rather  pretty ;  and  as  Dr. 
Thome  looked  down  into  the  sensitive, 
anxious  face,  he  divined  that  she  had  known 
less  of  joy  than  of  trouble,  and  that  excess  of 
caution  had  developed,  as  the  years  went  by, 
into  an  habitual  suspicion. 

"  Our  seats  seem  to  have  disappeared,  and 
I  am  afraid  you  are  tired,"  he  said.  "  Is 
there  no  place  you  can  sit  until  your  daughter 
returns  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  sometimes  sit  in  one  of  those 
chariots.  They  do  not  go  in  until  Filippa 


224 


Gloria  Victis 

And  she  looked  toward  the  nearest  chariot, 
beside  which  stood  a  sumptuous  figure. 

If  Dr.  Thorne  had  encountered  this  per 
sonage  some  centuries  earlier,  he  might  have 
taken  him  for  a  Roman  general.  The  au 
thorities  of  the  circus,  in  selecting  the  cos 
tumes  of  their  charioteers,  had  obviously 
been  guided  more  by  an  eye  to  effect  than 
by  historical  accuracy.  A  fillet  of  yellow 
ribbon  about  his  head,  a  crimson  peplum 
hanging  from  the  shoulders,  a  chest  and 
stomach  heavily  embossed  in  gold,  were  the 
impressive  accessories  to  an  Irish  face. 

This  resplendent  individual  nodded  pleas 
antly  as  they  approached. 

"  Good-day,  Mrs.  Zabarelli.  Are  ye  to 
honor  my  gig  to-day  by  a  sate  on  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Phelan,  if  you  are  willing."     , 

"Willing?     I  should  say!" 

And  with  the  end  of  the  crimson  pe 
plum  he  dusted  the  floor  of  his  classic 
vehicle.  He  greeted  Dr.  Thorne  by  bring- 
tion  a  finger  to  his  forehead  in  a  saluta- 
ing  that  suggested  both  the  barracks  and  the 
stable.  u  And  your  charming  daughter, 
Mrs.  Zabarelli,  in  another  minute  will  be 
15  225 


Gloria  Victis 

sailin'  through  the  heavens  like  an  angel  — 
as  she  is." 

With  a  cock  of  his  head  he  moved  away, 
and  remained  in  front  of  his  four  horses,  con 
versing  with  a  lady  who  resembled  the 
mother  of  the  Gracchi.  She  also  was  the 
driver  of  a  chariot. 

The  floor  of  the  cumbrous  vehicle  was  the 
right  height  for  a  comfortable  seat,  but  Mrs. 
Zabarelli  hesitated,  as  she  saw  no  place  for  her 
companion.  But  he  insisted  ;  and  as  she  took 
it,  his  eyes  fell  upon  a  gaily  painted  tub  close 
at  hand,  the  tub  upon  which  the  baby  elephant 
had  brought  shrieks  of  merriment  from  count 
less  children.  This  he  rolled  a  little  nearer 
his  companion,  and  he  also  had  a  seat. 

"  Our  young  people  seem  rather  fond  of 
each  other,"  he  began,  coming  at  once  to  the 
point,  as  he  knew  the  time  was  limited  in 
which  they  were  to  be  alone. 

Into  Madame  Zabarelli's  face  came  a 
troubled  expression. 

"  Yes,  they  are,  I  think." 

Then   a  pause.     Dr.  Thorne  was   diplo 
matic,  and  he  knew  his  mission  to  be  delicate. 
With  a  smile  he  continued,  — 
226 


Gloria  Victis 

"  If  I  were  younger,  I  should  put  in  a 
claim  myself." 

She  tried  to  smile. 

"  Yes,  Filippa  is  a  good  girl ;  everything  in 
the  world  to  me." 

"  And  Stephen  is  a  manly  fellow." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  he  is." 

She  looked  down  and  smoothed  Filippa's 
yellow  cloak  as  it  lay  across  her  lap. 

"And  improves  as  he  gets  older,"  his 
champion  added. 

She  looked  up,  and  regarded  her  ponder 
ous  vis-a-vis  with  a  half-suspicious  air. 
"  There  is  great  room  for  improvement." 

"  You  refer  to  his  hasty  temper  ? " 

"It  is  more  than  hasty,"  she  said  with 
animation ;  "  it  is  murderous.  He  almost 
killed  a  man  here,  not  two  months  ago  !  " 

Turning  partly  about  and  indicating  one  of 
the  ring-masters,  a  heavy  muscular  man,  get 
ting  some  horses  into  line,  she  continued  : 

"  Mr.  Wadsworth  struck  at  his  face,  and 
Mr.  Hacklander  warded  it  off;  but  a  second 
blow  hit  him  somewhere  below  the  heart, 
I  think,  and  everybody  thought  he  was 
killed.  He  sank  to  the  floor  and  could 
227 


Gloria  Victis 

hardly  breathe  for  some  minutes.     His  face 
was  like  chalk." 

Dr.  Thorne  closed  his  eyes  and  slowly 
shook  his  head. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that." 

With  a  solemn,  somewhat  terrified  expres 
sion,  she  added,  — 

"  And  that  may  happen  to  any  one,  to  his 
best  friends  ;  for  he  says  himself  it  comes 
and  goes  before  he  realizes  what  has 
happened." 

"  I  hoped  he  had  outgrown  those  attacks." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  If 
one  of  those  blows  should  strike  his  wife,  or 
any  woman,  it  would  kill  her.  No,  I  should 
be  a  bad  mother  to  trust  my  daughter  in 
such  hands." 

u  Poor  Stephen  !  I  cannot  express  to  you 
how  sorry  I  am  to  hear  this.  But  do  you 
believe,  Mrs.  Zabarelli,  that  he  would  ever 
strike  a  woman,  and  above  all  his  own  wife  ? 
His  anger,  however  violent,  would  certainly 
stop  this  side  of  that." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  should  never  trust  him.     And  besides 
his  temper,  his  eyes  are  —  well,  unpleasant." 
228 


Gloria  Victis 

ct  Unpleasant !  "  exclaimed  her  companion, 
in  astonishment.  "Why  I  never  encoun 
tered  a  more  honest  pair!  If  he  could  only 
live  up  to  those  eyes  he  would  be  too  im 
maculate  for  an  earthly  life  !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  know ;  and  that  I  suppose  is 
partly  what  makes  me  suspicious.  They  are 
too  good.  They  are  false,  and  they  fill  me 
with  a  kind  of  terror.  It  may  be  some  hor 
rid  association,"  and  she  drew  her  hand 
across  her  brow  as  if  to  recall  a  fugitive 
memory,  "  but  I  feel  there  is  danger  behind 
them.  I  can't  get  over  it,  and  I  know  it  is 
not  entirely  imagination." 

"  It  might  be.  People  have  often  been 
powerfully  influenced  by  fancied  resemblances 
—  by  ideas  that  have  proved  stronger  than 
their  reason." 

"  But  there  is  something  more  than  that. 
I  feel  —  but  I  can't  explain  it." 

Into  the  worn,  anxious  face  had  come  an 
expression  of  dread,  and  the  lips  were  drawn 
with  a  painful  intensity,  as  if  confronting 
some  mysterious  calamity.  While  Dr. 
Thorne  sympathized  with  what  he  could 
not  help  regarding  as  a  purely  nervous  condi- 
229 


Gloria  Victis 

tion,  he  felt  that,  in  this  particular  at  least, 
there  was  injustice  to  Stephen. 

During  the  silence  in  which  he  hesitated 
for  a  reply,  the  music  ceased,  and  he  knew 
that  Filippa  was  about  to  swing  off  into 
space,  to  be  met  by  the  dangerous  lover,  now 
swooping  through  the  heavens  like  a  re 
trieving  angel,  and  guided  by  the  unerring 
eyes  whose  truth  and  honor  were  being  so 
bitterly  denied. 

Mrs.  Zabarelli  also  knew  what  the  silence 
meant.  She  turned  her  head  to  one  side  and 
closed  her  eyes.  There  was  a  short  but  ab 
solute  stillness,  then  a  burst  of  music,  fol 
lowed  by  a  clapping  of  innumerable  hands 
telling  them  Filippa  was  again  in  safety. 

With  a  gentle  smile,  as  their  eyes  met,  he 
said, — 

"  The  false  eyes,  at  least,  are  faithful  to 
Filippa." 

But  the  anxious  mother  was  of  too  serious 
a  mind  to  undertake  a  smile.  She  looked 
down  and  regarded  her  own  hands,  which  lay 
clasped  upon  the  gaudy  garment  in  her  lap. 
In  a  moment,  however,  she  raised  her  face, 
and,  bending  slightly  forward,  said,  - — 
230 


Gloria  Victis 

"  I  know  you  think  me  very  foolish  to 
speak  as  I  did  of  Stephen's  eyes,  but  it  is  no 
fancy  of  mine  and  no  prejudice.  It  is  very 
real, —  so  real  that  sometimes  when  he  looks 
at  me  for  a  moment,  I  almost  remember 
everything." 

Her  companion  made  no  answer,  and  she 
continued  hastily,  as  she  knew  the  present 
performance  in  the  arena  was  now  over : 

"  I  would  not  do  him  an  injustice  for  the 
world,  as  he  is  very  good  to  us  in  many  ways. 
He  insists  upon  dividing  equally  with  Filippa 
their  weekly  salary,  when  he  of  course  does 
much  more  than  she  does.  He  really  loves 
Filippa ;  I  know  that,  but  I  must  look  out 
for  her.  No  one  should  blame  me  for  ob 
jecting  to  such  a  match." 

"  Blame  you  !  Certainly  not  !  Your  first 
thought  is  naturally  for  your  daughter,  and 
rightly  too.  But  let  us  try  and  know  Stephen 
better.  I  shall  find  out  all  I  can  and  be 
perfectly  honest  with  you." 

Both  arose  to  their  feet,  as  the  gates  had 

opened  for  the  returning  performers.     With 

an  encouraging  smile  he  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Trust  in  me.     I  am  an  old  hand  at  such 

231 


Gloria  Victis 

matters.     We  will  see  that  no  harm  overtakes 
Filippa." 

With  a  more  contented  expression  and 
with  a  word  of  thanks  she  laid  a  hand  in  his. 

Stephen  and  Filippa  came  running  through 
the  archway,  pursued  by  the  uplifting  music. 
The  mellow  light  of  the  amphitheatre  behind 
them,  the  vast  audience  towering  high  on 
every  side,  the 'excited  horses  and  their  gayly 
colored  riders  dashing  madly  about  the  arena, 
were  all  far  more  impressive  than  as  seen 
from  the  auditorium  itself. 

Filippa,  whose  graceful  scantiness  of  cos 
tume  suggested  a  spirit  from  more  ethereal 
realms,  tripped  lightly  toward  them ;  and 
the  yellow  wrapper,  outstretched  by  mater 
nal  hands,  was  thrown  about  her  shoulders. 
The  rose,  which  the  visitor  now  saw  to  be 
of  paper,  had  become  unfastened,  and  was 
dangling  from  the  hair,  also  looser  and  dis 
arranged  since  its  owner  had  swung  head 
downward  through  the  air.  She  was  breath 
ing  hard ;  and  as  she  shook  hands  with  Dr. 
Thorne  and  said  good-by,  he  saw  in  her  eyes 
an  exhilaration  and  content  not  produced  by 
exercise  alone. 

232 


Gloria  Victis 

Was  love,  so  high  above  the  earth,  more 
thrilling  than  terrestrial  avowals? 

As  she  and  her  mother  moved  away,  —  the 
black  figure  and  the  yellow,  —  he  made  a 
resolve  that  all  that  lay  in  his  power  to 
brighten  their  future  should  be  done,  at  what 
ever  cost. 

He  turned  and  confronted  Stephen.  The 
youth  was  smiling  pleasantly  upon  him,  and 
in  his  eyes  he  saw  the  same  overflowing  con 
tentment.  He  also  was  breathing  rapidly,  as 
well  he  might.  The  last  twenty  minutes  had 
been  spent  in  a  manner  to  test  the  hardest 
muscles  and  the  coolest  nerves.  The  happy, 
honest  eyes  moved  involuntarily  to  the  retreat 
ing  figures  with  a  tenderness  and  expectancy 
which  may  have  penetrated  the  yellow  robe 
between  Filippa's  shoulders  ;  for  she  gave  a 
backward  look  before  disappearing  around  the 
curving  wall  —  and  a  lingering,  significant 
little  nod.  The  amiable  visitor  concluded 
that  this  manoeuvre,  from  the  manner  of  its 
execution,  was  of  regular  occurrence. 

Stephen  accompanied  his  friend  to  the  outer 
door,  and  readily  accepted  an  invitation  to  dine 
with  him  on  the  following  day,  which  was 
233 


Gloria  Victis 

Sunday.  A  moment  later,  when  Dr.  Thorne 
found  himself  again  upon  the  sidewalk, 
surrounded  by  the  commonplace  scenes  of 
daily  life  —  men  with  trousers,  women  whose 
limbs  were  concealed  by  superfluous  drapery, 
—  and  all  the  matter-of-fact  dulness  of  prac 
tical  existence,  and  with  no  music,  he  felt  as 
if  suddenly  awakened  from  a  dream.  There 
was  also  a  feeling  of  having  descended  at  a 
single  step  from  Imperial  Rome  to  Manhattan 
Island. 


234 


XI 


A  S  usual,  after  the  performance  that  night, 
**  Stephen,  with  Filippa  and  her  mother,  left 
the  circus  and  walked  through  Twenty-seventh 
Street  to  Third  Avenue.  This  avenue, 
with  its  many  lights,  where  all  the  world 
seemed  out  of  doors,  was,  like  many  other 
New  York  avenues  on  a  summer  evening,  a 
scene  of  gayety  and  animation. 

As  the  three  travellers  stood  waiting  for 
an  uptown  car,  the  most  conspicuous  figure 
of  the  group  was  Stephen.  His  dark  blue 
suit  and  colored  shirt,  his  belt  and  russet 
shoes,  were  all  in  the  prevailing  summer 
fashion.  And,  altogether,  with  his  truthful 
eyes  and  athletic  figure  he  produced  an  ac 
ceptable  impression  of  health  and  youth  and 
vigor  —  and  of  surpassing  honesty. 

Filippa,  like  her  mother,  was  dressed  in 
black,  and  very  simply,  wearing  no  color 
except  a  spot  of  crimson  at  her  throat  and 
another  in  her  hat. 

235 


Gloria  Victis 

They  took  an  open  car.  Mrs.  Zabarelli 
entered  first,  followed  by  her  daughter,  the 
young  man  last,  keeping  the  outer  seat.  Mrs. 
Zabarelli,  being  suspicious,  cast  occasional 
glances  toward  her  daughter's  lap.  Filippa, 
aware  of  these  suspicions,  folded  her  plump 
little  hands  before  her,  and  conversed  gaily 
upon  every  subject,  as  if  no  lover  were  in 
sight.  But  the  spirit  that  laughs  at  lock 
smiths  directed  one  of  Stephen's  hands  to  the 
nearest  arm,  the  sleeve  of  which,  being  short 
and  somewhat  open  from  the  elbow  down, 
seemed  to  favor  this  manoeuvre.  So  during 
their  journey  —  of  a  mile  or  more  —  he 
achieved  two  triumphs :  one,  the  circumven 
tion  of  a  watchful  parent;  the  other,  the 
maintenance  of  a  spiritual  intercourse  in 
which  compressions,  strokes,  and  taps  con 
veyed  subtle  and  multitudinous  meanings. 
A  general  statement  of  ordinary  significance 
when  accompanied  by  one  of  these  secret 
messages,  took  on  at  once  a  revivifying  in 
terest.  Moreover,  that  hilarious  little  current 
that  flies  from  lover  to  lover,  even  at  fingers' 
contact,  expanded,  in  a  case  like  this,  to  an 
intoxicating  revel. 


Gloria  Victis 

When  Filippa,  in  descending  from  the  car, 
placed  her  hand  in  Stephen's,  it  received  a 
gentle  yet  emphatic  pressure,  —  a  tender,  mel 
ancholy,  yet  assuring  grasp;  for  this  was 
their  adieu  as  regarded  intercourse  of  that 
character,  both  believing  that  until  to-morrow 
afternoon,  on  the  high  trapeze  with  thou 
sands  looking  on,  they — the  hands  —  would 
probably  have  no  chance  for  meeting.  This 
pressure  was  affectionately  returned. 

Eastward,  toward  the  river,  Filippa  in  the 
middle,  they  walked  along  the  quiet  street,  — 
and  slowly,  for  the  night  was  warm. 

Filippa  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  He  seems  a  very  nice  man,  your  friend  ?  " 

"What  friend?" 

"  The  big  clergyman  who  was  at  the  circus 
this  afternoon,  —  Mr.  Thome,  —  so  kind  and 
gentle." 

"  The  best  man  in  the  world ! "  said 
Stephen.  "  You  can  bet  on  him,  and  every 
time.  He  was  mighty  good  to  me,  —  took 
me  right  into  the  family,  like  his  own  son." 

"  When  was  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  ago." 

"  And  did  you  stay  there  long  ?  " 
237 


Gloria  Victis 

<c  A  couple  of  months,  I  guess." 

"  Yes,"  said  Filippa,  reflectively.  "  I  re 
member  your  telling  me  something  about  it. 
But  if  he  was  so  good  to  you,  why  did  you 
leave  ?  " 

"  I  forget." 

Mrs.  Zabarelli's  ears,  as  Stephen  knew,  were 
always  on  the  watch  for  something  to  his  in 
jury,  and  he  had  no  intention,  at  least  when 
she  was  present,  of  assisting  in  his  own  defeat. 
Her  hostility  was  open  ;  she  made  no  conceal 
ment  of  her  antipathy  for  this  perilous  lover. 

"  Mamma  says  she  used  to  know  him." 

"No,  I  didn't  say  that,"  said  her  mother. 
"I  only  used  to  hear  him  preach  occasionally. 
Has  n't  he  some  odd  belief,  or  other  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Steve.  "  I  forget 
about  that." 

"Something  about  Christ  not  being  dead 
and  still  going  about  the  earth  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Stephen,  "I  remember. 
That  was  it,  I  think.  Some  folks  thought 
he  was  a  crank,  but  it  was  only  in  that  busi 
ness.  He  is  n't  any  fool." 

"  Gracious,  I  should  say  not !  "   exclaimed 
Filippa ;  "  he  seems  awfully  wise." 
238 


Gloria  Victis 

"  He  is,"  said  Stephen. 

The  last  house  in  the  block,  the  one 
farthest  to  the  east,  an  ordinary  three-story 
dwelling,  was  precisely  like  its  score  of  neigh 
bors,  except  in  its  possession  of  windows 
toward  the  river.  It  was  now  a  boarding- 
house. 

"I  am  afraid  you'll  find  the  hall  kinder 
dark,  Mrs.  Zabrelly,"  said  the  landlady,  who 
was  standing  on  the  steps  for  a  breath  of  air 
before  retiring.  "  It 's  after  eleven  o'clock, 
and  I  thought  you  was  home.  I  could  'a' 
waited  just  as  well." 

"Oh,  it  doesn't  matter.  We  know  the 
stairs ; "  and  giving  the  key  to  Filippa,  she 
remained  for  a  few  words  with  Mrs.  Mac- 
Farlane,  while  the  younger  people  entered  the 
house  and  began  a  cautious  ascent  of  the  un- 
lighted  stairs.  Reaching  the  third  and  steep 
est  flight,  p^ilippa  halted  on  the  second  step. 

u  Sometimes  this  very  last  climb  is  really 
too  much." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  take  the  elevator  ?  " 
demanded  Stephen,  so  close  behind  that  he 
was  almost  touching  her. 

Turning  partly  around  and  reaching  toward 
239 


Gloria  Victis 

his  face,  hardly  visible  in  the  darkness,  she 
took  hold  of  his  chin. 

"  What  nonsense  are  you  talking  ?  What 
elevator  ?  " 

"  This  one." 

And  he  put  one  arm  behind  her  knees,  the 
other  across  her  back,  and  before  she  realized 
his  purpose,  swung  her  high  in  the  air,  as 
lightly  as  if  she  were  a  doll. 

"  Oh,  Stevey  !  "  she  whispered,  "  put  me 
down  !  What  would  mamma  say  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  because  she  '11  never  know." 

"  How  bad  you  are  —  and  how  strong  !  " 

u  What 's  the  use  of  owning  an  elevator 
if  you  never  use  it  ? "  And  he  carried  her 
to  the  final  landing,  and  without  an  effort. 

"  Well,  here  we  are,"  she  said.  "  Now 
let  me  down." 

u  But  it 's  fun  to  hold  you." 

"  No,  you  must  n't,  Stevey  !  Besides, 
mamma  will  be  coming  in  a  minute." 

"She  has  n't  started  yet." 

"  But  you  must  n't !     Now,  behave  !  " 

"If  you  were  in  my  place,  would  you 
obey  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  would  !  " 
240 


Gloria  Victis 

Steve  laughed. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  would  n't,  Filippa  !  You 
would  n't  be  such  a  fool.  You  would  n't 
drop  the  nicest  girl  in  the  world  if  you 
once  had  her  like  this." 

Although  too  dark  to  see  much,  he  knew 
she  was  smiling,  or  something  very  near  it. 
As  her  face  was  drawn  closer  to  his  own,  she 
laid  a  protesting  hand  across  his  mouth ;  but 
against  Stephen's  strength  such  an  incon 
siderable  affair  as  Filippa's  hand  was  of  no 
avail. 

Five  minutes  later,  when  Mrs.  Zabarelli 
entered  her  parlor,  she  found  Filippa  arrang 
ing  their  very  simple  supper  upon  the  table, 
while  the  bad  young  man  stood  innocently  by 
the  open  window,  from  which  he  overlooked 
the  avenue  and  the  vacant  lot,  and  could  see 
across  the  river  to  Blackwell's  Island. 

The  parlor  of  the  Zabarellis,  although 
with  two  windows  to  the  south  and  one  to 
the  east,  would  have  been  dingy  and  common 
place  except  for  Filippa's  love  of  color,  in 
herited  in  all  its  fulness  from  her  Neapolitan 
father.  His  portrait  hung  above  the  mantle. 
Occasional  cushions,  scarfs,  and  rugs  of  vivid 
16  241 


Gloria  Victis 

but  harmonious  colors  gave  life  and  cheerful 
ness  to  an  apartment  whose  other  accessories 
had  reached  a  shabby  senility. 

This  nightly  supper  was  a  compromise. 
The  young  people  after  their  evenings  at  the 
circus  required  something  in  the  way  of  food, 
and  during  the  earlier  days  of  their  present 
alliance  they  had  taken  it  at  restaurants. 
But  restaurant  suppers  were  expensive,  and 
the  Zabarellis  were  poor.  Stephen  joyfully 
played  the  host,  but  Mrs.  Zabarelli,  unwilling 
to  continue  placing  herself  under  obligations 
to  one  whom  she  distrusted  and  opposed, 
insisted  upon  these  banquets  being  served 
at  home,  —  at  least  their  own  proportion  of 
them. 

One  of  Filippa's  ambitions  was  to  make 
these  little  reunions  enjoyable,  in  spite  of  her 
mother's  presence,  —  which  was  a  chilling 
influence  to  overcome,  —  and  to-night  the 
little  chandelier  in  the  centre  of  the  room 
above  the  supper  table  was  blazing  at  its  full 
capacity.  Its  full  capacity  was  but  four  very 
ordinary  burners,  and  the  feast  consisted 
merely  of  ham,  potato  salad,  bread,  butter, 
and  cheese,  with  two  bottles  of  lager  beer. 
242 


Gloria  Victis 

But  to  herself  and  Stephen  these  were  details 
of  minor  importance.  And  in  spite  of  the 
inevitable  results  of  her  mother's  open  hos 
tility  to  the  guest,  they  always  enjoyed 
these  little  feasts.  To-night,  as  usual,  the 
meal  passed  cheerfully,  and  fulfilled  its  mis 
sion  of  keeping  two  people  in  each  other's 
presence  for  an  additional  hour. 

As  they  arose  from  the  table,  Mrs.  Zaba- 
relli  went  into  the  other  room.  Filippa,  tak 
ing  one  of  Stephen's  hands  in  both  her  own, 
said  with  a  nod  of  approval  as  she  examined 

it,— 

"  You  are  a  good  little  boy  to  keep  your 
promise.  Your  finger  will  soon  be  well 
again,  I  know." 

"  Very  likely.  But  what  do  you  think  was 
inside  the  ring  ?  " 

"  Was  it  hollow  ?  " 

"No,  I  mean  written  along  it,  on  the 
under  side." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Some  inscrip 
tion  from  your  mother  to  your  father  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !     More  mysterious  than  that." 

Filippa  with  increasing  interest,  as   if  ap 
proaching  some  awful  secret,  whispered,  — 
243 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Not  from  some  other  lady  to  your 
father  !  " 

"  No ;  but  you  'd  never  guess.  See  for 
yourself;"  and  from  a  pocket  he  brought 
forth  the  ring,  now  severed  and  drawn  wider 
open,  and  he  laid  it  in  her  hand.  She  held  it 
to  the  light  and  studied  the  inscription. 

u  Why,  Stevey !  My  initials  !  How  curi 
ous  !  But  it  can't  be  possible  !  "  Then 
with  a  look  of  suspicion  she  took  a  backward 
step  and  slowly  shook  her  head.  "  How 
simple  I  am  !  But  it  Js  very  nice  of  you  to 
give  it  to  me.  And  it  's  a  good  wish  :  c  God 
Bless  the  Wearer.'  You  did  fool  me,  though, 
for  a  minute." 

"  What  do  you  mean  —  fooling  you  ?  I'm 
not  fooling  you,  Filippa.  You  mean  I  had  it 
written  ?  No,  I  swear  I  did  n't !  That  is 
just  as  the  ring  has  always  been  ever  since 
I  've  worn  it,  but  I  had  forgotten  all  about 
that  writing.  But  I  was  goin'  to  give  it  to 
you  all  the  same,  as  soon  as  I  saw  those  in 
itials.  It  might  bring  you  good  luck.  I 
would  n't  give  it  to  anybody  else,  though ! 
You  can  bet  on  that !  " 

"  I  believe  you,  Stevey ; "  and  she  laid  a 
244 


Gloria  Victis 

hand  on  his  arm,  looking  up  into  his  face 
with  the  smile  that  had  stirred  the  Italian 
memories  of  Dr.  Thorne  and  brought  him 
confusion  of  Madonnas.  This  smile  —  and 
it  was  not  uncommon  —  was  unfailing  in  its 
effect  upon  Stephen  ;  creating  a  desire  for 
heroic  deeds,  —  deeds  requiring  strength  and 
amazing  courage,  or  some  gigantic  sacrifice, 
to  prove  to  her,  once  for  all,  that  he  was  hers, 
absolutely  and  forever. 

He  took  her  gently  by  the  shoulders,  but 
before  proceeding  farther  turned  his  eyes 
toward  the  chamber.  It  was  well  he  did, 
for  as  he  looked  Mrs.  Zabarelli  was  coming 
through  the  doorway. 

"  What  do  you  think,  mother !  "  exclaimed 
Filippa,  holding  the  ring  toward  her.  "  What 
do  you  suppose  it  says  inside  this  ring  of 
Stephen's  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,"  was  indiffer 
ently  answered,  with  a  glance  yet  more  in 
different  in  the  direction  of  the  lover,  as  he 
strolled  toward  the  window  after  a  sudden 
release  of  Filippa's  shoulders. 

u  But,  really,  mother,  it  Js  most  extraordi- 


245 


Gloria  Victis 

nary.  It  has  my  initials,  and  they  have  been 
there  all  these  years." 

Her  mother,  with  feeble  interest  and 
merely  to  gratify  her  daughter,  took  the  ring, 
adjusted  her  glasses,  and  read  aloud  the  in 
scription,  —  "  To  F.  W.  Z.  God  Bless  the 
Wearer." 

"  Yes,  that 's  very  curious,"  she  said,  in  a 
manner,  however,  that  was  disappointing  from 
its  unconcern. 

"  But,  mother  dear,  don't  you  think  it  a 
wonderful  coincidence  that  somebody  else 
should  have  my  initials,  which  are  so  un 
usual,  and  that  Steve  should  be  wearing 
them  all  these  years  ?  " 

Mrs.  Zabarelli  seemed  not  to  hear.  She 
had  removed  her  glasses  and  closed  her  eyes, 
her  thoughts  drawn  suddenly  into  the  past  by 
this  once  familiar  legend. 

Turning  about,  she  confronted  the  ap 
proaching  Stephen.  He  halted  in  surprise 
at  the  sudden  change  in  her  expression. 
The  careworn,  anxious  face  was  now  ablaze 
with  anger,  the  eyes  dilated  from  an  un 
wonted  excitement,  obviously  beyond  her 
own  control.  So  swiftly  was  her  arm  ex- 
246 


Gloria  Victis 

tended  that  he  took  a  backward  step  to  avoid 
the  quivering  finger  that  pointed  at  his  face. 

"  I  remember  you  now !  It  all  comes 
back  !  And  those  honest  eyes  !  For  years  I 
have  been  trying  to  place  them.  And  you 
have  the  insolence,  the  brutal,  brazen  inso 
lence,  to  come  into  my  house.  Leave  it ! 
Leave  it,  and  never  enter  it  again !  Mur 
derer,  robber !  " 

The  color  left  Stephen's  face.  He  glanced 
at  Filippa,  who  seemed  bewildered  by  her 
mother's  language.  In  a  low  voice  he  asked  : 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mrs.  Zabarelli  ?  " 

"  What  do  I  mean !  You  know  even 
better  than  I  do  what  I  mean !  And  that 
ring  with  its  inscription  is  a  surprise  to 
you !  " 

And  she  laughed ;  but  the  laughter  was  in 
irony,  and  so  mirthless  and  unnatural  that  the 
listeners  thought  her  reason  was  affected. 

u  Oh,  yes,  you  are  surprised  !  And  7  was 
surprised  that  day  on  Staten  Island,  fourteen 
years  ago,  when  you  came  into  my  home  and 
robbed  me  of  all  I  owned.  And  my  child 
and  I  have  been  in  poverty  ever  since." 

The  ring,  as  she  finished,  slid  from  her 
247 


Gloria  Victis 

trembling  fingers,  and  rolled  into  the  obscurity 
of  a  corner,  its  mission  accomplished. 

"  But  really,  ma'am,  I  don't  know  what 
you  mean,"  said  Stephen  earnestly,  laying  a 
hand  upon  his  chest  as  in  protestation  of  his 
innocence. 

More  calmly  she  answered,  but  with  bitter 
contempt,  — 

"  Of  course  not !  But  the  denial  is  of 
precious  little  value  coming  from  a  man  who 
can  rob  a  helpless  woman,  and  kill  her  child 
if  necessary  to  accon  .plish  his  purpose." 

Steve,  with  changing  color,  stared  intently 
at  Madame  Zabarelli  in  a  despairing  effort  to 
understand  her  words. 

"  Mother  dear,"  said  Filippa,  gently,  "  there 
must  be  some  mistake.  You  say  fourteen 
years  ago,  and  fourteen  years  ago  Steve  was 
only  ten  years  old.  And  this  robber  was  a 
man,  was  n't  he  ?  " 

Her  mother  frowned,  as  in  a  confusing 
mental  struggle,  nervously  brushing  the  hair 
from  her  temples. 

"  Don't  you  see,  mother  dear,  it  could  n't 
be  Steve?  It  was  some  entirely  different 
person." 

248 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Then  it  was  his  father  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"Oh,  I  shall  not  forget  that  face !  Nor 
those  lying  eyes  !  You  have  said  yourself 
that  ring  was  given  you  by  your  father.  No 
child  of  mine  shall  associate  with  the  son  of 
such  a  parent.  Never  !  never  !  never  !  "  she 
repeated  with  increasing  emphasis.  Then, 
regarding  him  with  an  infinite  scorn,  she  de 
manded,  — 

"  Is  that  clear  ?  " 

Along  his  veins  and  through  the  tissues  of 
his  brain  throbbed  warnings  of  a  hovering 
enemy,  his  mother's  rage;  but  he  had  con 
fidence  in  his  self-control. 

"  Filippa,"  he  said  gently,  "  of  course 
you  don't  want  to  go  against  your  mother, 
but  you  would  n't  throw  me  over  entirely, 
would  you  ?  " 

Before  her  daughter  could  reply,  Mrs. 
Zabarelli  again  spoke  out, — 

"  As  my  whole  life  has  been  a  sacrifice  for 
Filippa,  I  do  not  expect  to  be  deserted  at  the 
first  call  of  a  stranger,  and  above  all  for  a 
stranger  of  your  antecedents  !  " 

Filippa,  now  summoned  without   warning 
to  make  the  decision  of  her   life,  loving  each 
249 


Gloria  Victis 

and  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice  of  herself 
for  the  good  of  either,  turned  entreatingly 
toward  her  mother.  With  both  hands  upon 
her  arm,  she  began  to  speak. 

But  Mrs.  Zabarelli  was  not  a  woman  to 
relinquish  victory  when  once  achieved.  She 
drew  away  her  arm,  and,  ignoring  Filippa, 
stepped  nearer  Stephen. 

"  That  ring  your  father  took  from  Filippa 
when  he  entered  my  house  and  robbed  me, 
with  a  loaded  pistol,  of  all  the  money  I  pos 
sessed.  I  have  found  since  that  he  was  a 
professional  thief  and  murderer,  a  sharper, 
a  blackleg,  a  common  criminal,  with  no  pre 
tensions  to  decency  or  honor.  And  you, 
the  image  of  him,  his  own  true  son  in  soul 
and  body,  I  have  seen  through  ever  since 
you  joined  us.  Your  lying  eyes  have  never 
fooled  me.  And  your  brutal,  murdering 
temper  is  the  temper  of  a  — " 

But  Stephen  heard  no  more,  and  he  heard 
but  dimly  the  last  few  words  as  they  rent  the 
barriers  of  his  rage.  A  flood  of  fury,  hot, 
blinding  and  resistless,  surged  like  a  bursting 
torrent  through  his  brain.  His  eyes  saw, 
but  they  told  him  nothing.  They  only 
250 


Gloria  Victis 

showed  him  the  hostile  face  before  him,  and 
he  struck  madly  out.  It  was  a  blow  to  kill, 
if  kill  he  could. 

At  the  transformation  in  his  face  Filippa 
flung  herself  before  her  mother.  Upon  her 
upturned  chin  she  met  his  fist,  then  sank  upon 
the  carpet,  limp  and  motionless. 

The  arm  drew  back  for  another  blow, 
but  as  he  advanced  to  launch  it,  striking 
with  his  foot  the  form  upon  the  floor,  the 
wildfire  flickered  in  his  brain,  then  died  away 
as  suddenly  as  it  came.  He  stopped,  stag 
gered  backwards,  and  drew  a  hand  across 
his  eyes  as  if  to  hasten  his  returning  reason. 
The  mother's  terror-stricken  eyes  moved 
from  Stephen  to  the  figure  at  her  feet ;  she 
stooped,  and  with  her  feeble  strength  endeav 
ored  to  raise  her  daughter  from  the  floor. 

To  his  horror  Steve  saw  Filippa's  head  sink 
back,  an  unresponsive  weight.  Her  face,  ex 
cept  the  purple  bruise  upon  her  chin,  had  a 
lifeless  pallor.  Beside  her,  upon  his  knees,  he 
also  dropped,  exclaiming  in  a  voice  of  agony, — 

"  Oh,  my  God  !    my  God  !  " 

«  Take  her  to  the  bed,"  said  Mrs.  Zabarelli, 
forgetting  all  except  her  daughter's  danger. 
251 


Gloria  Victis 

Carefully  he  rose  to  his  feet,  the  burden  in 
his  arms ;  and  as  he  followed  Mrs.  Zabarelli 
into  the  chamber,  he  turned  the  girl's  cheek 
against  his  own  and  muttered  an  incoherent 
appeal.  Gently  upon  the  bed  he  laid  her, 
while  the  mother's  hands  arranged  a  pillow. 

"  Now  run  for  a  doctor  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Quick  !  quick,  and  don't  lose  a  second  !  " 

He  was  off,  as  the  words  were  uttered, 
down  the  dark  stairs  in  reckless  leaps,  out 
into  the  silent  street,  leaving  the  door  wide 
open  behind  him. 

He  remembered  a  doctor's  sign  half-way 
along  the  block,  and  up  the  steps  of  that 
house  he  sprang  and  pulled  the  bell.  All  the 
inmates  were  abed,  for  it  was  after  midnight. 
He  rang  again  and  again,  and  it  seemed 
hours  before  the  door  was  opened. 

"  I  want  to  see  the  doctor,  quick  ! " 

u  Dr.  Hasselmann  is  out." 

"  Out !     How  soon  will  he  be  back  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  might  return  in  ten  minutes  and 
it  might  not  be  for  an  hour  or  two." 

"  Is  n't  there  another  doctor  near  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  at  No.  65,  about  the  middle  of 
the  next  block." 

252 


Gloria  Victis 

In  another  minute  Stephen  was  ringing 
the  bell  at  No.  65,  and  with  better  luck. 

This  doctor,  an  elderly,  gray-haired  man, 
hurried  on  under  the  young  man's  guidance, 
asking  certain  questions  concerning  the  nature 
of  the  accident.  Steve  told  him  all,  only 
omitting  that  the  "accidental  blow"  had 
been  aimed  at  another  woman.  Up  the  dark 
stairs  he  led  the  way,  and  when  they  entered 
the  Zabarelli  parlor  the  physician  was  some 
what  out  of  breath. 

He  passed  at  once  to  the  chamber,  and 
bent  over  Filippa. 

When  he  looked  up,  first  at  the  mother 
and  then  at  Stephen,  his  kind,  serious  face 
told  them,  before  a  word  was  uttered,  that  all 
was  over.  He  said  something  about  death 
having  been  instantaneous,  and  spoke  of  con 
cussion  of  the  brain.  Mrs.  Zabarelli,  who 
had  suspected  the  truth,  seemed  dazed  by 
grief.  Mechanically  she  seated  herself  in  a 
little  chair  by  the  bed,  and  began  to  rock. 

With  dry  lips  and  a  husky  voice  Steve 
asked  if  nothing  could  be  done,  if  there  was 
no  possibility  of  this  condition  being  only 
temporary. 

253 


Gloria  Victis 

"  Surely  there  must  be  some  way  to  bring 
her  back,  doctor  !  "  he  whispered.  "  You 
don't  mean  she 's  dead  —  gone  forever  !  " 

The  man  of  science  laid  a  hand  gently 
upon  his  shoulder. 

u  Yes,  but  nothing  could  have  been  done 
to  save  her.  Life  was,  perhaps,  extinct  be 
fore  you  left  the  house." 

And  with  a  few  words  to  the  mother  he 
departed. 

Long  afterwards  Stephen,  as  in  a  hideous 
trance,  stood  motionless  by  Filippa's  bed. 
He  shed  no  tears.  There  were  no  outward 
signs  of  grief. 

At  last,  turning  slowly  about,  he  walked 
into  the  parlor.  For  completer  solitude  he 
turned  out  the  gas,  and  threw  himself  upon 
the  floor,  his  face  buried  in  his  hands. 


254 


XII 

\1  7" HEN  Stephen  raised  his  head,  a  faint, 
cold  light  had  crept  into  the  room. 
He  shuddered,  for  the  light  of  day  was  not 
for  such  as  he.  There  were  things  too  cow 
ardly  and  too  vile  to  face  the  glare  of  heaven. 
Climbing  slowly  to  his  feet,  he  approached 
the  open  window. 

With  a  kind  of  terror  he  regarded  the 
colorless  radiance  in  the  east  spreading  slowly 
upward  into  the  starlit  sky.  It  seemed  to 
his  shrinking  gaze  like  something  sent  to 
hunt  him ;  something  that  would  overtake 
him  if  he  lingered.  Pure  and  calm,  it  flick 
ered  along  the  surface  of  the  river,  and  the 
river  brought  a  welcome  thought.  Beneath 
the  waters  there  was  peace.  No  lingering 
here,  no  sacrifice  within  his  power,  could 
bring  back  Filippa,  or  palliate  the  unutterable 
crime.  But  there,  at  least,  was  oblivion. 

For  a  last  look  upon  what  had  been  dearer 
to  him  than  all  the  world  —  for  whose  life 
255 


Gloria  Victis 

he  would  cheerfully  have  given  up  his  own 
—  he  moved  toward  the  chamber.  But  in 
the  doorway,  as  his  eyes  encountered  Mrs. 
Zabarelli  gently  rocking,  just  as  he  had  left 
her  long  hours  ago,  he  halted.  Was  her 
reason  gone  ?  Had  he  killed  two  women 
with  a  single  blow  ?  When  he  stood  before 
her  and  spoke  her  name,  she  ceased  rocking 
and  looked  up.  But  in  her  face  came  no 
look  of  recognition.  After  a  questioning 
glance  she  lowered  her  eyes  and  continued 
rocking. 

Mechanically  he  turned  out  the  light. 
Moving  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  he  looked 
down  on  the  silent  figure,  now  doubly  solemn 
in  the  ghostly  light  that  entered  from  the 
eastern  windows. 

There  seemed  in  this  frigid  radiance,  as  it 
lay  upon  Filippa's  face,  something  spiritual 
and  unearthly,  as  from  another  world.  Stand 
ing  at  her  feet,  he  recalled,  with  another  pang 
of  remorse  —  such  as  had  been  burning  into 
his  brain  through  the  hours  of  night  —  her 
unwavering  confidence  in  himself,  her  readi 
ness  to  swing  from  any  height  if  only  he  were 
there  to  catch  her,  her  persistence  in  taking 

256 


Gloria  Victis 

upon  herself  all  blame  when  it  would  place 
him  in  a  better  light  before  her  mother,  her 
cheerfulness,  her  loyalty,  and  her  courage. 
And  before  his  dry,  hot  eyes,  the  bed,  the 
woman  rocking  by  its  side,  and  the  room 
itself  began  slowly  to  revolve  in  widening, 
swifter  circles.  His  brain  also  seemed  to 
float  away.  Staggering  backwards,  he  sank 
into  a  chair. 

But  the  dizziness  soon  passed.  Dropping 
upon  his  knees  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  he  bent 
forward  and  reverently  touched  his  lips  to  the 
sole  of  one  of  Filippa's  shoes.  Then  he 
climbed  to  his  feet,  and  after  a  parting  look 
at  the  stricken  mother  still  rocking  to  and 
fro,  unconscious  of  his  presence,  he  turned 
and  left  the  room. 

Down  the  dark  stairs,  out  into  the  street, 
where  the  lights  from  lamp-posts  glimmered 
yellow  and  useless  in  the  advancing  dawn,  he 
kept  his  course  with  outward  calmness. 

Nearing  the  avenue,  he  halted  in  surprise 
as  he  recognized  an  approaching  figure.  Too 
well  he  knew  the  walk  and  the  ponderous, 
familiar  form  to  be  mistaken.  He  also  knew 
that  Dr.  Thorne  must  be  returning  from  some 
17  257 


Gloria  Victis 

errand  of  mercy,  and  instinctively  he  con 
trasted  it  with  his  own  black  deed.  His 
first  impulse  was  to  cross  the  street ;  but  his 
old  friend  had  already  recognized  him. 

"  Why,  Stephen,  what 's  the  matter  ?  " 

The  tone  of  alarm  was  involuntary,  as  the 
face  before  him  was  that  of  an  older  man 
than  the  Stephen  Wadsworth  of  the  after 
noon  before.  Dark  hollows  beneath  the 
eyes  j  a  tension  of  the  lips,  the  pallor,  and  the 
whole  expression  told  plainly  of  a  conquering 
sorrow. 

The  murderer  shrank  within  himself  as 
he  encountered  the  anxious,  friendly  scrutiny. 
Even  the  voice  was  not  his  own  in  which  he 
answered,  — 

"  An  accident  to  Filippa." 

"  Oh,  I  am  sorry  —  sorry  !  What  is  it  ? 
How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

Stephen  looked  away,  but  his  face  told  the 
inward  agony  which  choked  his  speech. 

"  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  ? "  continued 
his  friend.  "  Cannot  I  go  there,  and  be  of 
service  ? " 

"  Will  you  ?  "  exclaimed  Stephen.  "  Will 
you  go  there  ? "  and  he  pointed  to  the  house. 

258 


Gloria  Victis 

"  That  first  door  on  the  right ;  it  is  open. 
They  are  at  the  very  top,  on  the  front. 
Will  you  really  go  there  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  of  course  I  will !  And  you 
return  soon,  I  suppose  ? " 

"Yes." 

They  parted,  and  Stephen  felt,  as  from  a 
knife,  a  sharp  regret  that  his  final  word  to 
such  a  friend  should  be  a  lie.  But  what  mat 
tered  a  lie  after  a  deed  like  his !  When  Dr. 
Thorne  should  find  Filippa  had  been  mur 
dered,  and  by  him,  his  contempt  and  loathing 
would  be  far  beyond  the  influence  of  lies  — 
or  of  all  ordinary  human  sins. 

With  heavy,  unobservant  eyes,  and  lips 
compressed,  he  strode  across  the  vacant  lot 
toward  the  wharf.  This  piece  of  ground, 
between  the  Avenue  and  the  East  River, 
about  the  size  of  an  average  city  block,  was 
of  uneven  surface,  and  at  present  served  merely 
as  a  playground  for  the  children  of  the  neigh 
borhood.  He  followed  the  wagon  track  that 
led  across  it  to  the  wharf. 

Reaching  out  into  the  river  about  an  hun 
dred  feet,  this  wharf,  but  little  used,  bore 
a  deserted,  somewhat  melancholy  aspect. 
259 


Gloria  Victis 

Alongside  lay  a  solitary  craft,  a  heavy 
schooner,  close  against  the  land.  Her  cargo 
of  paving-stones,  partially  unloaded,  was  scat 
tered  along  the  pier. 

Out  upon  the  wharf,  about  a  third  its 
length,  he  had  walked  with  firm  and  even 
steps,  when  he  stopped  and  turned  about. 
The  sleeping  city  before  him  showed  no  signs 
of  life,  save  the  steam  and  rattle  from  a  dis 
tant  train  upon  the  elevated  road,  and  a  mail- 
wagon  as  it  disappeared  around  a  neighboring 
corner. 

In  the  slowly  brightening  sky  above  the 
window  of  the  room  in  which  Filippa  lay, 
a  group  of  stars  still  glittered  through  the 
spreading  light.  The  window  was  open,  as 
he  had  left  it.  With  his  eyes  upon  this  win 
dow,  he  moved  his  lips  responsive  to  some 
thing  in  his  soul  akin  to  prayer  j  but  the 
prayer  was  not  for  himself.  He  closed  his 
eyes,  raised  his  face  toward  the  sky,  and  drew 
a  long,  deep  breath  which  ended  in  a  gasp. 

As   he  turned   about  and  took  a  forward 

step  along  the  wharf,  he   halted  in  surprise 

at  seeing  the  figure  of  a  man  not  a  dozen  feet 

away.     He  opened  wide  his  eyes,  then  closed 

260 


Gloria  Victis 

them,  believing  it  a  vision  of  his  feverish  brain. 
One  moment  ago  no  human  being  was  in 
sight. 

The  figure  approached,  and  even  now,  in 
the  uncertain  light,  he  half  doubted  its  reality. 
To  his  weary  eyes  it  mysteriously  blended 
with  the  radiance  behind,  the  expanding, 
many-tinted  splendor  announcing  the  dawn 
of  day. 

Coming  close  to  Stephen,  the  man  stood 
before  him.  He  was  young,  but  little  over 
thirty,  and  tall,  with  a  slight  stoop  about  the 
shoulders.  From  his  simple,  somewhat  or 
dinary  clothes,  Stephen  judged  him  to  be  a 
master  mechanic,  —  a  mason  perhaps,  or  a 
carpenter.  But  the  face  was  less  usual.  The 
features  were  regular,  the  eyes  a  dark  blue, 
and  singularly  gentle  and  expressive.  A 
brown  beard  grew  in  two  points  from  the 
chin. 

Reaching  forth  a  hand,  he  rested  it  on  the 
murderer's  shoulder, — 

"Life  is  yet  before  you,  Stephen.  You 
have  made  a  good  fight,  but  your  burden  was 
beyond  your  strength/' 

And  as  the  compassionate  eyes  were  fixed 
261 


Gloria  Victis 

upon  his  own,  Steve  experienced  a  new  sen 
sation. 

It  might  have  been  a  form  of  personal 
magnetism,  or  mayhap  this  stranger  pos 
sessed  the  power  of  imparting  to  those  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact  a  portion  of  his 
own  nature ;  but  whatever  the  cause,  Steve 
realized  within  himself  the  birth  of  a  new 
hope,  of  a  new  and  different  kind  of  courage. 
Moreover,  he  was  indefinably  impressed  by 
something  in  the  expression,  and  in  the  voice 
and  manner,  of  this  unexpected  friend ;  by  a 
certain  gentleness  and  thoughtful  gravity  that 
suggested  a  wider  experience  than  his  apparent 
age  would  justify. 

Such  was  his  influence,  that  Stephen  was 
walking  by  his  side,  when  after  a  very  few 
words  of  encouragement  he  took  his  way 
across  the  vacant  lot  along  the  street  toward 
the  Zabarellis. 

He  ascended  the  steps  as  if  familiar  with 
the  house,  and  mounted  to  the  upper  floor. 

Without  knocking  he  turned  the  knob  of 

Mrs.    Zabarelli's    parlor,  and  entered.     His 

hat,  of  soft  black  felt,  of  common  shape,  he 

laid   upon   a  table  near  the   door.     Stephen 

262 


Gloria  Victis 

followed,  close  behind;  and  he  noticed  that 
Dr.  Thorne,  who  was  talking  with  Mrs. 
Zabarelli  near  the  window,  took  a  step  or  two 
forward  when  he  saw  the  stranger,  a  look  of 
pleasure  and  recognition  upon  his  face.  His 
greeting  was  returned,  which  caused  Stephen 
to  believe  that  they  already  knew  each  other. 
And  it  also  appeared,  from  the  deference  with 
which  Dr.  Thorne  addressed  him — Dr. 
Thorne  being  much  the  older  of  the  two  — 
that  he  might  be  a  person  of  more  impor 
tance  than  his  attire  betrayed.  But  he  lin 
gered  for  a  moment  only,  then  passed  on  into 
the  chamber. 

The  others  followed.  The  little  chamber 
was  all  aglow  with  rosy  light,  from  the  crim 
son  sun  just  showing  above  the  trees  beyond 
the  river.  And  on  the  opposite  wall  stood 
purple  shadows  of  the  anxious  group. 

"  Is  there  any  hope  ? "  demanded  Mrs. 
Zabarelli  in  a  tremulous  voice,  with  an  ap 
pealing  glance  to  the  stranger.  "  Can  you 
do  anything  for  her,  doctor  ?  Oh,  it 's  too 
late  !  too  late  !  I  know  it 's  too  late  !  " 

Making  no  reply,  but  seating  himself  upon 
the  bed  beside  Filippa,  he  drew  a  hand  across 


Gloria  Victis 

her  forehead,  gently,  as  if  smoothing  her 
hair,  and  uttered,  in  a  low  voice,  words  not 
understood  by  those  about  him. 

So  great  was  Stephen's  confidence  in  this 
man,  strengthened  by  the  knowledge  that 
certain  trances  had  frequently  been  mistaken 
for  death  itself,  that  he  was  not  amazed  by 
what  now  occurred. 

The  color  came  creeping  back  into  Filip- 
pa's  face ;  her  bosom  rose,  responsive  to 
a  long,  deep  breath,  and  as  if  awakening 
from  a  sleep ;  her  eyelids  moved,  then  slowly 
opened,  and  she  looked  about. 

Blinking,  as  one  not  fully  awake,  she  looked 
up  at  the  face  above  her,  now  illumined  by  the 
light  through  the  eastern  window  —  a  rosy, 
supernal  light  that  seemed  to  enfold  him  with 
a  glorifying  touch. 

"  Why,  what  has  happened  ?  " 

Then,  with  a  glance  at  those  about,  she 
added,  — 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember!" 

And   seeking   Stephen  with  her  eyes,  she 
filled  his  soul  with  an  infinite  joy.     The  look 
was  a  message  that  told  of  more  than  forgive 
ness.     In  the    flood   of  feelings    that    over- 
264 


Gloria  Victis 

whelmed  him,  his  face,  haggard  and  sensitive, 
spoke  plainly  of  his  gratitude.  And  then  it 
was  that  his  eyes  met  those  of  the  stranger, 
who  smiled  —  a  simple,  brotherly  smile,  so 
expressive  of  fellow  feeling  and  encourage 
ment  that  it  created  in  Stephen  a  warmer 
sentiment  toward  him;  a  sudden  affection 
hitherto  forbidden,  probably  without  intent, 
by  the  man's  gravity  and  reserve. 

Mrs.  Zabarelli  had  stood  by  the  bed  in 
breathless  anxiety,  apparently  unable  to  ac 
cept  the  evidence  of  her  senses.  But  when 
her  daughter,  with  the  stranger's  aid,  arose  and 
stood  upon  her  feet,  she  convulsively  embraced 
her  and  wept  aloud  from  excess  of  joy. 

"Why,  it's  like  coming  to  life  again, 
Filippa  !  We  thought  you  were  dead  ! " 

She  stroked  her  hair  and  patted  her  cheeks, 
crying  and  laughing  by  turns. 

She  soon  recovered,  however,  and,  turn 
ing  to  Filippa's  rescuer,  who  was  replying 
to  some  question  of  Dr.  Thome's,  she  said 
with  earnestness, — 

u  How  can  I  thank  you,  sir !  You  have 
given  me  back  my  daughter.  Is  there  noth 
ing  I  can  do  to  prove  my  gratitude  ?  " 

265 


Gloria  Victis 

Indicating  Stephen  by  a  gesture,  he  an 
swered,  — 

"Yes,  by  giving  your  daughter  to  this 
man.  Henceforth  he  shall  be  worthy  of 
your  confidence." 

Mrs.  Zabarelli  frowned  and  was  about  to 
protest.  But  as  she  looked  searchingly  into 
the  stranger's  face,  a  closer  study  may  have 
brought  a  fuller  trust,  or  she  also  may  have 
yielded,  like  the  others,  to  some  indefinable 
personal  influence.  However,  after  a  ques 
tioning  glance  at  Dr.  Thorne,  who  bowed 
his  head  in  emphatic  approval,  and  a  look  at 
Stephen,  whose  face  bore  a  gentler  expression 
since  the  night  before,  she  answered,  — 

"  I  will  do  it." 

At  this  consent,  so  long  desired,  so  unex 
pected  when  it  came,  the  incredulous  lovers 
looked  instinctively  into  each  other's  eyes  for 
further  confirmation  of  tidings  too  good  to 
be  believed.  Filippa  turned  impulsively  and 
kissed  her  mother. 

With  a  parting  word  the  stranger  moved 
toward  the  door.  Stephen  grasped  him  by 
the  hand,  and  exclaimed  with  feeling, — 

"  And  for  myself,  too,  I  am  much  obliged 
266 


Gloria  Victis 

to  you  !     I  shall  be  all  right  after  this.     I  know 
it.     I  —  I  did  n't  deserve  such  help." 

Returning  the  pressure  and  looking  kindly 
into  the  lover's  eyes,  the  man  replied,  — 

"  There  is  honor  for  the  vanquished." 

And  he  departed. 

Dr.  Thorne  with  the  grateful  mother  fol 
lowed  him  to  the  parlor  door,  but  a  warmer 
interest  drew  Stephen  back  into  the  chamber. 
Approaching  the  girl  whose  good  opinion  he 
felt  he  had  no  right  to  claim,  he  said  in  a 
low  voice, — 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  stand  by  me, 
Filippa.  Throw  me  over  and  I  won't  say  a 
word." 

She  came  nearer  and  stood  close  against 
him.  Drawing  both  hands  gently  across  his 
cheeks  as  if  to  smooth  away  all  trace  of 
suffering,  she  smiled  and  looked  up  into  his 
face. 

"  Stevey  darling,  no  matter  how  bad  you 
are,  or  whatever  you  may  do,  I  forgive  you 
now,  in  advance." 

At  the  next  performance,  Monday  after 
noon,  Stephen  and  Filippa  ran  out  into  the 

267 


Gloria  Victis 

arena  as  usual,  were  hoisted  to  the  upper  air, 
and  there,  aloft,  upon  the  high  trapeze,  they 
excited  the  wonder  of  the  audience. 

At  the  right  moment,  when  Filippa,  alone 
and  hanging  by  her  hands,  had  acquired  a 
long,  appalling  swing,  the  music  ceased. 

Then,  in  a  silence  so  profound  that  nothing 
was  heard  except  the  creaking  of  the  iron 
rings  that  held  the  two  trapezes  to  the  trusses 
of  the  roof,  she  let  go  her  hold  and  sailed 
away.  Among  the  thousands  of  upturned 
faces  there  were  some  that  grew  a  trifle  paler. 
And  no  one  breathed. 

Steve,  head  downward,  hanging  by  his 
knees  from  the  other  trapeze,  came  soaring 
up  in  that  direction,  as  usual,  in  the  very  nick 
of  time,  and,  as  usual,  cool-headed  and  with 
strength  to  spare.  He  clutched  the  out 
stretched  hands.  The  music  burst  madly 
forth,  rejoicing,  triumphant;  Filippa  clam 
bered  to  the  bar  above,  and  Stephen  followed. 

To  and  fro  they  swung,  a  fearful  distance, 
showering  kisses  to  the  applauding  multitude 
below. 

Both  were  breathing  fast.  As  they  started 
on  a  forward  journey  like  birds  above  a  field 
268 


Gloria  Victis 

of  human  faces,  Filippa's  hair  flying  back 
ward  from  her  temples,  the  artificial  rose 
a-flutter,  Steve  turned  and  looked  into  the 
eyes  beside  him.  There  was  too  much 
noise  up  there  for  conversation,  but  no 
words  were  needed.  The  short  glance  into 
each  other's  faces  revealed  all  they  had  to 
say,  —  not  all,  of  course,  but  the  most  impor 
tant.  Her  answering  smile  told  the  simple 
story  of  an  unalterable  trust. 

And  perhaps  Stephen  made  no  mistake  in 
believing  himself  the  happiest  man  in  that  vast 
enclosure  —  or  in  the  world. 


269 


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N?  812093 

PS2409 

Mitchell,  J.A.  M2 

Gloria  victis.  G6 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


